


Journey

by Sephinflames



Series: Journey [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, hobbit - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-10-24 06:23:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 24
Words: 72,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10735956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sephinflames/pseuds/Sephinflames
Summary: This is now a completed piece in a series.Tragedy and horror struck leaving them with news of the others demise. Circumstance forced them to lead very different lives than the ones they had imagined they would have. After years separated them a chance meeting brought them back together. Their futures will not only rely on regaining what they lost in their homes but if they can accept how differently they have come to view the world and possibly each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

Summer

She had been glad to be back home. She was visiting. The queen had recently given birth and she had returned to pay her respects. There had been much celebrating. Feasts and tournaments were hosted, perhaps it was ill timed. The tensions surrounding the royal family had been mounting and the extravagance being displayed only added to them. 

She was making her way to her chambers. She was tired and finally, it seemed that the hall was quiet enough for her to gain some decent sleep. She slipped into the back, hidden hallways. She wanted to guarantee that she would make it to her bed sooner rather than later. The dark corridors offered her some much needed quiet. 

She was happy that she would be heading back soon. She had been given in marriage and upon her return, she would be wed. She was looking forward to it. She had been fortunate that she had been given to a man that she had been able to fall in love with. A feeling that he returned. She smiled, toying with the necklace he had given her. The chain had been simple platinum. From it hung a tear shaped amethyst. It had matched her eyes. Often, he would tease that he had only to look into her eyes to see what she was thinking, for they changed their purple hue so often. 

She paused. She was not certain she was heading the correct direction. She frowned and rounded a corner. No this was not the way to her chambers. This was the way to the servants' chambers. Her chambers were on the other side of the council chambers. Or were they? She groaned. She was lost. In her home. It was bad enough she was still getting lost in her betrothed's home, now, here she was lost. She grew up here.

She sighed and turned to walk back. She heard a high-pitched scream. She froze in fear, her heart pounding into her chest. Another scream, shouting. She couldn’t force her feet to move forward. She backed up against the wall, trying to force herself farther and farther back into the stone. Shouting, the clash of metal, screaming. She squeezed her eyes shut willing herself to not hear these sounds. Willing it to go away. 

Voices in the hallway made her gasp. Footfalls heading her way, armored men. She blinked. Her brain was screaming for her to run. She stood, gasping and blinking until she could see the silhouettes of the men walking in her direction. They came to an abrupt halt when they heard voices drifting in from the other direction. She started to move away from the men, towards the voices. She remained plastered to the wall, sliding along it. She just needed to get around the corner, right? She suddenly realized that she didn’t know which side of her held the enemy. She stopped moving when the light of a carried torch came into view. They were getting closer. Slowly and quietly the men on the other side of her unsheathed their swords. The hallway was wide enough, maybe she could slink to the floor and get away. She didn’t move any further. She found she couldn’t command herself to do anything but stare at the light as it got brighter and brighter.

Two of the queen’s guards came into view. They were followed closely by the queen; her infant was being carried by a female servant and following her were more guards. They came to a halt when they saw the men waiting in the shadows. The queen screamed and the men sprang into motion clashing with each other. The queens’ men were greatly outnumbered. In frozen silence, she watched the foreign men collide with the queens’ men. The servant was roughly grabbed, the crying infant tore away from her and slammed into the wall to silence. She screamed in horror. Tears spilled down her cheeks as she watched the queen being dragged to the ground, men tearing at her gown. She staggered back, unable to tear her eyes away from the queen and the men who were rapidly turning into her rapists. 

One of the men turned and saw her. He smiled. She turned and ran. She was tackled to the ground as she was about to clear the corridor. Her impact with the ground drove the air from her lungs and she saw stars. Vainly she attempted to push away the man that shoving her skirt out of his way and tearing her underthings from her. She screamed as her breath returned to her and tried to free herself. That was when she felt it. Searing pain drove into her. She cried out in pain, tears streaking her face. Over and over she felt him force his way into her and she could do nothing more than whimper and scream in pain. 

Finally, he finished and rose. She scrambled back from him and gained her feet. She turned to run. She completed one step before a hand clamped over her mouth and yanked her head back. She barely managed to get her hand up in time to feel the steel connect to it and slam her knuckles into her throat. The pain in her hand was excruciating and she was fighting for breath. Stars were danced before her eyes. 

Early Fall 

The knock on her door snapped her from her reverie. It had been years since she was saved. Years since the palace had been sacked. She sighed and kissed the ring that she had suspended from her necklace. Tucking it into her clothing she walked to the door and waited. “It’s me.” She smiled a little and cracked the door open for him to enter. He slipped in and looked at her. “They are going to dig in and ride out the winter before starting back up again.” She sighed and shook her head. 

“That is foolish. They will give their enemies time to regroup and undo all of the damage that they have paid us to do. They should strike while the iron is hot.” 

He nodded and smiled down at her. “You are right, but they are paying us. It’s their mess, not ours.” He reached to trace her eyebrow. He frowned as she turned away. He looked past her and saw it sitting on the table. That damned letter. The message of what happened to her betrothed. He had been killed when his home was taken. He knew she wore one of his rings on her necklace. That had been delivered with the letter. It drove him nuts. Why she just didn't let him go was something he didn't understand. "I am going to get a drink. At least come downstairs and join me." She absently nodded and looked out the window. He groaned and left the room. He made it to the stairs when he saw them. Silently he cussed and made his way back to her room. She frowned at him walking in. "Rangers. Meet me at the river." He nodded to the east and slipped out again. She gathered her few possessions up and slipped out the window and made her way to the stables as she kept to the shadows.

\--

She was pushing the horse to its limits. She had to. One man still held to the pursuit. She had to shake him. She was the superior rider, but her horse was tired. His horse was not. She registered feeling something, hearing something but in the moment, she was meeting the ground far too fast for her liking. She managed to roll with her impact. She heard the arrow that struck her break. The noise she heard must have been the arrow striking her armor that would also explain the pain. She can only imagine that she yanked the reigns reflexively from the impact, which is why she was now lying face first on the ground.

She had worked the long dagger from her sleeve. She slowed her breathing to a near stop as she listened to his horse thunder up to her. His feet hit the ground, the leaves crunched under his boots as he walked to her. The glide of steel leaving a sheath. A long sheath. Could be good, could be bad. Good, if he decides to touch her to see if she’s still alive. Bad if he uses his sword to make certain she was dead. 

He grunted as he bent to grab her shoulder. This would have to be executed perfectly. She was very small in comparison to him. She only had speed and precision on her side. He roughly spun her by the shoulder, turning her enough for her to clap her free hand at the base of his neck enabling her to pull herself close enough to him to drive her dagger upwards into the soft flesh of the underneath of his jaw. Speed and inertia enabled her to pin his jaws together, the dagger’s length allowed it to strike his brain and in mere seconds he was dead. His weight quickly fell on to her. She squirmed and kicked him off her. She was covered in his blood and she knew that he had friends that would eventually come looking for him. 

She looked to the nearby river. There was a small drop off to the rushing water. She dragged his body within a few feet of the drop-off. She shucked her coat and tore a sleeve from it, after tossing the coat over the edge she dragged the sleeve into a nearby tree, clawing it enough to make it seem as if something tried to keep their balance with it.

She walked back to her horse. She sighed. She pulled a few items from the saddle along with her sword, which she was not known to carry. She figured she could get away with taking her bow and arrows, but thought better of it. She pulled her black cloak free and gave the horse one more scratch on the neck before walking away. 

His friends would find his body, her torn coat, the horses. They would see that nothing notable is missing from the saddle and they would report her dead. Washed away by the river. She was free. It was both liberating and depressing. 

She found a town after a full night of walking. She didn’t dare stay there for long, but she needed something to eat and to rest. Those were easily found at the inn; she did have some gold left over and the inn keeps never argue with gold. The next morning, she made her way to the shop keeper whose son was interested in her sword. She hadn’t wanted to part with it, but she needed clothing and a means to carry it. She planned on walking to the next town maybe further. She would settle for at least the winter perhaps after that she would move on. It would purely depend on what she heard when the snow melted. She traded the jeweled sword for several items of clothing, a bag, and a few more gold coins. Fewer than she would have liked, but the clothing was very high quality. She didn’t mind that trade off.

Before dawn broke she left town. She walked for several days before reaching a town that was isolated. Tucked at the bottom of a valley it would be difficult to enter and exit once the snow flew. She felt she could get out of it if she had to. It was large enough for anonymity, it was perfect. With reluctance, she made her way into the town that she may well spend the rest of her life in.

She walked the entire town, mapping it, remembering it. When she felt that she had it committed to memory she walked to the home of the healers. At least that is what the wooden sign at the door said. It was a large house and well cared for. She raised her hand to knock when the door opened to reveal a mousy looking woman in a plain brown dress. The woman gave her a large smile. "Oh, my…you are new…I knew there was someone new in town." She nodded to the woman and the woman looked to her right. "See, I told you. I can tell when new people show up." She blinked. She couldn’t see anyone else. Perhaps the person she was conversing with was in a different room. “Come in…come in…are you wounded?”

"No, ma'am. I am not." She followed the mousey woman into the house. The door was closed behind her.

“Set your things down and come. I will make tea." She let her things slide to the floor, not yet wanting to relinquish her cloak and hood. She followed the woman and was waved to a chair by a large table that was covered in a crocheted table cloth. "So…" She started as she set tea cups out. "…we think you might be in trouble?" The woman shook her head. "I don't think, but others do." She frowned. Who was this woman talking about? There wasn't anyone else in the room. She didn't see anyone else on the way to the table. The woman sat across the table from her and smiled. "Don't listen." She waved at her as if someone was there. "I know you aren't in trouble, but if you are. We won't judge you." 

She was sitting at the table of a crazy woman. “I am not certain what you mean by trouble…” She started carefully. The woman laughed a nasally and quite unpleasant laugh before rising and moving to pour the tea. She wrapped her hands around the cup and smiled. “Thank you.”

The woman returned to her chair. “You are welcome. Are you married?”

“No.”

“That is the trouble we mean, sweetie.”

She blinked. “Oh. I see.” She closed her eyes for a long moment. “No, Ma’am. I am not expecting.”

“Oh, well you are young…are you young? I cannot see you under that hood.” She chuckled, nasally. “What brings you here?”

“I find myself without a home and work. I have skill as a healer and would like to ask if you need an assistant.”

The woman gasped and put her hand over her heart, alarming her. “Do I ever!” She suddenly started clapping. “I would LOVE to have help! My name is Sadie. What’s yours?” 

She blinked. She was not used to overly expressive people. She was, however, used to crazy people. She smiled and pushed her hood back. “My name is Amaryllis.”

"Oh, my! Look at your lovely white hair! CARL! Come look at this angel that has landed to help us!” Sadie laughed. “But Amaryllis is a flower, right?” She nodded and Sadie laughed more.

A man, who was not much bigger the Sadie appeared. He was just as mousey as Sadie was. “Hello.” He said softly. She nodded to him. 

“This is Amaryllis. She has offered to assist and I think that we should have her here with us. She’s far too beautiful to stay in town.” Carl nodded and smiled. 

“Welcome to our home.”

“Thank you.”

\----

Dinner was a strange affair with the couple. Carl was quiet and kept to himself while Sadie had carried on about the people in the town. 

There was the baker, who had three daughters. And those girls weren't very good girls if you knew what she meant. But the baker was a darling and goodness, his bread was to die for if you were there when it came from the oven. The baker's wife, well, she was a horrible woman that ran away from their lovely little town. And how dare that horrible woman leave her children?

A couple of widowed ladies worked as dressmakers and tailors. They were nice ladies, but far too young to be alone. She was certain that one of those women should try to land that Smith. He was single. Of course, they could also try to get those boys who helped at the stable, those boys were cute. She would certainly have to introduce her to those boys. She was young. She still had plenty of time to have babies. She didn’t care for Sadie wanting to set her up and see her with a bunch of kids.

While Sadie talked about the people of the town, she cleaned up. Carl became her savior when he suggested that their guest must be tired and she should retire.

Amaryllis smiled at the couple and retreated to the room they had given to her. It was a comfortable room with a small closet. There was a bureau with a mirror on top along with a chair. In the corner was an overstuffed chair as well. A small nightstand sat near it bed. 

She sat down on the bed and held her head. She was certain that Sadie would be introducing her to the eligible bachelors of the town so she could get married and have babies. She didn’t want that.  
She rose and unbuttoned her gown. Once she was free from it; she pulled her only silk garment free and pulled it over her shoulders. After brushing out her hair and braiding it she slid into the bed and curled up on her side. She reached for the ring on her necklace. 

She let her mind drift back to when her life was a fairy tale as she drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

Late Fall

The last several weeks taught her that Sadie did indeed, freely have conversations with people who were not there, but, it also showed her that the towns folk had mixed feelings over this. Some merely didn’t care. Others didn’t like it and some were flat out frightened by it.

It didn't bother her. She had been around people who carried more dangerous forms of crazy. In fact, those people were not stable. Sadie was stable. She wasn't dangerous. She was merely lonely. She did what she could to talk to Sadie as often as she could, but, she had grown so used to quiet time and reading that it got taxing on her to have the constant conversation.

For the last couple of days, she had been making her way across the town to check on a lady who was nearing her date with her first child. She didn't have to make the trip. The woman was in fine health, but this was her first baby and she was overly worried. She had stopped in and spoken with the lady. Once she was certain that she had eased the soon-to-be-mothers fears she left with the promise of returning in the morning.

Sadie had requested that she bring back a bottle of wine for her and Carl. That made her next stop the inn, most of the town ate dinner in the attached saloon and many more of them spent too many nights sitting at the bar. The inn keep's wife, Susie, saw her and brought her into the kitchen. Susie was busy this morning but declined any offers of help. Susie excused herself to make her way into the back to get the wine, leaving her to watch the dining room from a hidden vantage point. There weren’t many people there, but there would be soon and she wanted to be on the other side of town before that happened.

That was when she saw him. She blinked. He was walking towards the doors. She only had to call his name. He would hear her. She would have him again. Or would she? She was not near what he would remember her to be. She was…a monster. She mutely watched him leave. Not realizing Susie had returned. 

“Have you met him?” The sudden voice made her jump. She turned and shook her head. “Oh, he’s not necessarily the friendliest guy, but he’s polite and respectful.” She gave Susie a small smile. That sounded right. Susie offered her the bottle. She grasped it and stowed it in the bag she was carrying. 

“Thank you. Are you certain you don’t want help?”

Susie shook her head. “No, get out of here.” She nodded. “Stop by and introduce yourself…he’s the smith…” She sighed. “You can’t live with Sadie forever.” Susie joked.

“Now I have both of you trying to get me married off…” She smiled and reached to hug Susie. “Take care, Susie.”

“You too, Amy.”

The townsfolk that she had met decided that Amaryllis was too much, so they decided to call her Amy. She didn’t mind. She left the inn and quickly located him. She could follow him, talk to him. But what would she say? How would she be able to explain what has happened to her over the years? Would she be able to tell him what she has done to survive? She could not. That simply was inexcusable behavior for nobility. She sighed and turned to walk back to Carl and Sadie’s home. 

-

She stared up at the sky. Waiting for her breath to return. Once it did she spoke. Her voice had become soft, and in the wake of having the wind driven from her yet again, she was in no mood to raise it. “I am going to die before I get good at this.”

“Be positive.” 

She scowled at the man’s simple statement. She sat up and gave him a stupid smile. “I am going to die quickly!” She said in her cheeriest voice. He scowled at her.

"Back on the damn horse." She groaned and shoved herself to her feet. At least that fall didn't break any more ribs. She walked to him and took hold of the saddle. She quickly climbed the beast and sat.  
Her ability to do even that was huge. Before the palace was sacked she was the most ungraceful person to ever get near a horse. Her fiancé had made a habit of riding with her. For her own safety. She was that horrible around horses. No matter what she would find a way to end up on her butt. Foot caught in the stirrup, startled the animal, trip on her skirts. You name it. She was so ungraceful her future-in-laws likely feared for her safety. Hence, she was typically put on a horse in front of her fiancé. She didn’t mind that in the least. It was a chance to be close to him. 

She spurred the animal, who promptly reared up. She clung to it for her dear life. “Hades.” She hissed at it. “Your damn name is Hades you foul animal.” The horse settled. She still clung to it. “I swear on my life, you god-forsaken beast if you throw me again and I will have horse for dinner.” 

The horse shook his head and she sat up. She wouldn’t really kill and eat the horse, but it felt good to say it. “Let’s go, Hades.” She said lightly spurring him again. 

She smiled and allowed her spirits to lift a little as the beast started walking and moved into a slow trot. For the first time in her life she was able to stay on a horse through regular paces. She was beginning to feel optimistic as she brought him to a stop.

Then the bastard decided to buck her to the ground. She moved to her back, looking up at the horse. “You are the spawn of Satan.” As if it agreed he nudged her with his nose and whinnied. She assumed it was laughing at her. 

Sadie’s loud, nasal laugh startled her from her thoughts. She scowled. She had allowed herself to be lost in memory again. She took a long breath and grasped his ring, holding it. He was here. She bit back the tears. There wasn’t anything left of the girl he remembered her to be. 

“AMY!”

She gasped and stood. She quickly left her room. “What is it?” She asked before she saw what she had been called for. The new mother needed her. The father was there in a panic. “Go. I will be right behind you.” He nodded and ran. She gathered her things and threw her scarf and cloak on. Sadie was worried, she had been drinking. “Enjoy your night. I will take care of this.” Sadie nodded as she bolted out the door.

She ran across town. Barely paying mind to the fact that the Smith's fires were still burning bright.

No matter the mess, the swearing, the agony, there will always be something beautiful about a new baby. She smiled as she held the newly cleaned, and crying infant. She walked the little boy to his mother and gently set him in her arms. "He is beautiful." She said softly. The new mother nodded with tears in her eyes. She leaned and kissed her brow. "Congratulations, Mommy. Your son is healthy and…perfect." The woman looked at her and nodded. She smiled and moved about to clean up.

Once she completed her task she made her way from the room to see the father. He was a mess. She smiled. “Go see your boy.” He smiled and gave her a bear hug. She hugged him back and watched him head into the room.

She sighed. That should have been her. Once upon a time. She squeezed her eyes shut. He. Was. Here. She shook her head. She was tired. After she rested she would think on the matter. If it felt right, then yes, she would go to him. At least let him know that she had made it out of the palace. Alive, if nothing else. She scowled at the memory. 

Susie arrived with a woman that was introduced as Molly, the new aunt. She smiled at the woman. “I will check back in a few days and see how everyone is.” Molly nodded and moved to see the baby. She turned to Susie and raised her eyebrows. 

“We need you…” 

“What has happened?” She reached for her scarf and wrapped it around her head and neck. 

“They were putting in a new shelf, a higher shelf for the grill and it slipped and landed on his arm…” She grabbed her cloak and threw it over her shoulders. 

“Is Van’s arm broken?” She pulled her hood into place and followed her out of the house and walked with her to the inn.

“No...no broken bones. It’s just a big nasty, bloody gash.” She nodded. That was simple. “It isn’t Van. It slipped and landed on the smith.”

She inwardly sighed. She wasn’t ready for this. “Okay.”

-

He was more than aggravated. He knew he would need stitches, but he wasn’t remotely interested in dealing with the healer or his strange wife. Susie said that she would see if the newer lady was available to come to see him. He hadn’t been aware that there was a new healer in town. Susie felt horrible about the entire situation and wanted to make sure that his arm was properly tended to. He wasn’t certain why she felt so horrible. It was an accident and such things happen. 

He sat, his arm wrapped up in a towel and soaking it with blood. Susie had been gone for quite some time. He was getting ready to just cauterize it himself and head back to his home to rest. 

The door finally opened and Susie came in with a woman that was even smaller than her. The smaller woman was wrapped up in a black scarf that covered her face and hair. She had a thick black cloak that was lined with dark fur wrapped around her. He looked at her and she seemed to pause for a moment before walking to him. He inwardly groaned. He should have headed home. She spoke lowly to Susie who nodded and made her way into the back. She approached and he heard her sigh. He closed his eyes. 

Upon opening his eyes, he was forced to blink. He did not believe what he was seeing. The small woman had pushed her hood back to reveal her face. She smiled at him and put a finger to her lips. “Susie told me what happened…” She said softly, moving to take a seat by him. He sat and watched her. She set something on the table and let her cloak fall back from her shoulders. She reached for the towel and slowly unwrapped it. After looking it over she covered it back up and smiled at him. Susie finally emerged with a kettle of boiling water, a bowl, and a few more towels, she set them down. She poured the boiling water into the bowl.

He watched as she turned and pulled her cloak free, letting it drape over the nearby table. She was buttoned into a dark blue wool dress, her hair braided down her back. She opened the bundle she had set on the table and they both watched her thread a hook and toss it into the boiling water before putting the nose of the pliers into the water. She unwrapped the towel on his arm again. Susie gasped and made haste to head into the back. He silently watched as she dipped a fresh towel into the hot water and wrung it out. His brow furrowed, how did that not burn her? She held it in the air for a moment as she took the blood-soaked towel from his arm and tossed it into the fire. 

She then turned her gaze to him and offered a small smile. "This is going to hurt…" He nodded and took a breath. She pressed the hot towel to the open wound and with strength, he was certain she couldn't have possibly had she managed to hold his arm in place when he reflexively jerked away. He finally relaxed and she released her hold on him. She dabbed at the wound, cleaning it up. She placed the towel under his arm and looked at the wound, finding and pulling out small pieces of debris that were still embedded. Once she was convinced that she retrieved them all she wiped his arm down one more time with the towel and left it resting on the wound.

One of her hands remained on the towel as she plucked up the pliers and fished out the threaded hook. He watched as she deftly stitched the wound. Once that was completed she removed the towel completely and soaked a new one. She held that in place while she, again, threw the bloodied towel into the fire and then dropped her tools back into the hot water. Finally, she raised her eyes to his again. She smiled at him. “Almost finished.” He reached to tuck her loose hair behind her ear. She was really here. In this small town as a healer. Maybe he had lost so much blood he was delirious.  
“Are you really here?” He asked softly. 

She smiled and slowly blinked. “I am here. We can talk elsewhere…” She blinked as Susie came from the back and quietly watched her wrap the wound. She looked up at Susie. “Get some rest. We will see ourselves out.” Susie nodded a little and hesitantly left them alone.

Once she completed wrapping the wound she turned her attention to packing her items. She had no idea what to say to him. For all intents and purposes, they were strangers now, right? She rose to take the water into the kitchen. She was well aware that he was watching her. Waiting for her to say something. Even she wanted to say something. But, there were no magical words to put their lives back to what it had been before they were separated.

She paused in the kitchen. She had endured a long day and she had yet to settle her thoughts and emotions over her discovery that he was still alive. She sighed. What had he lost? What of his family? She was certain many of them died. She poured the water out and cleaned the bowl, setting it on a towel to dry. 

She emerged a few minutes later. He smiled and rose, taking up her cloak for her. She returned the smile and stopped in front of him so he could wrap her in the cloak. He did so and took up his own as she wrapped herself in her scarf and took up her bag. He wrapped his arm around her and guided her out. It had started snowing. 

He walked with her. She knew he would walk her back to Carl and Sadie’s home. “We were sent word you were killed.” She let silence overtake them for many long moments. “They sent back your necklace.”

“They.” She fought to keep the bitterness from her voice. “Who are they?”

“Well, not they, him. Vargus delivered the message and the necklace." She nodded and walked in silence. She knew who Vargus was. He was one of her brother's men. By rights, he should have been killed when the palace was taken. 

“My brother sent me word you had been killed. He had come across some of your palace guards. One of them had a ring that belonged to you. What of your sister?”

"She is well. As are the boys." She nodded, fearing to ask about anyone else.

“Which brother?”

“Jon.”

“The rest of your family?”

“Reported dead.”

"As you were?"

“Aye, but I saw.” She fell to silence again.

That silence reigned for the rest of the walk. She had been right. They were now awkward strangers.

She sighed as he walked her to the door. They stopped and faced each other. She looked up at him. She could see it in his eyes. Sadness. It struck her heart. She rested her gloved hands on his chest as he reached to touch her cheek. He bent to kiss her. 

Then the door sprung open.

She gasped and stepped back. “HELLO!” Sadie shouted as she dropped into her arms in a hug. “I was so worried…we all were…” Amy chuckled. Sadie was clearly very drunk.

“I think we need to get you inside Sadie.” Sadie blinked several times and finally noticed him.

“I am soo sorry…I didn’t know you had a gentleman caller.” She slurred out as she attempted to whisper.

“He was seeing me home and I think it is bed time for you.” Sadie fell into her nasal laughter, that ended up with her snorting for breath. Amy turned her gaze to him. “We will talk later?” He nodded. 

“Unless you want to…” He shook his head. He wanted no part of the crazy lady, much less while she was drunk. “Good night.”

“Good night…Amy…” He said her name slowly. She smiled at him and ushered the stumbling woman into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

Winter

Winter came early. In fact, it came the night he became aware that she had survived. She had been fortunate enough that Sadie was drunk. She didn’t have to deal with speaking with him. It had snowed through the night and decided that it would continue to do so for several more days. 

She should have spent the time considering how she would explain where she had been for all this time. But, she didn’t. In fact, she dutifully ignored that train of thought and like a child hoped that it would just go away. Of course, it haunted her. She saw him in her dreams and she heard his voice while she slept. 

The sheer amount of snow kept her trapped near the house. She knew she could have made it into town if she wanted to, but, she wasn’t about to do just that. The town had handled her as they would a gentle lady and she didn’t need to start eroding that impression by wading through deep snow. So, she avoided thinking about him by reading. She even went to the length to create a hammock so she could get out of the house and have some time away from Sadie’s near constant conversation. 

\--

For several days, no one was unfortunate enough to deal with his foul mood, as he was trapped indoors, alone. She was trapped indoors on the other side of the town. She was with the crazy healers. They didn’t even live close to anyone else. There wasn’t anyone near her to check on her and make sure she was alright. It was driving him crazy. 

He stared at the fire or he would pace. She was alive. And he couldn’t get to her. He wanted her with him, where he could make sure she was safe. She was the only one he had ever wanted. He would have her or he would have no one. She was his. 

Or was she?

The thought suddenly struck him like thunder. Had she wed another? Was she a widow? Had she run away from a husband? Is that why she was here, hiding? Did she have children? He didn’t believe that she would have left children behind. 

But how did she get out of the palace? Her necklace was found near the queen’s body. That is what they were told. No. They were told SHE was found near the queen. Why had they been lied to? Why wasn’t she returned to him? Certainly, they, she, knew that she was welcome in their home. With or without her titles.

He had so many questions for her. And the damn snow wasn’t helping.

Even when the snow had stopped it was near impossible to get to her. At least there was work to do, it helped slow his mind from creating horrors concerning her and he was grateful for the break. 

Winds came through and finally made it seem as if he could make his way out to her and make sure she was safe. He would do so on this morning after he made certain that his fire would remain while he was away. He looked at the dark sky and cursed. Another storm was coming. She simply would have to come to town and stay with him for the duration of the storm. He trudged his way through the snow. She could not stay so far away again. It was unacceptable.

He neared the house and noted that smoke came from the chimney. That slightly relaxed him. The curtains were closed. He walked to the door and knocked, hoping that she would answer. 

His hopes died in vain when Sadie answered and gave him a big smile. “Oh hello, what brings you out so far?”

“I was hoping to speak with Amy.”

He could have sworn that her smile grew wider. “She’s out…somewhere. She left a while ago.” He blinked. She wasn’t in the house. He nodded and looked around. “Would you like to come in and wait?”

“No, thank you. I will see that she is safe.” He turned and stepped off the porch and looked around. He saw tracks that he was surprised he missed on the way in. He was so busy looking at the house he had not seen them. He followed them as panic started to take over. What was she doing wandering around outside?

Her tracks looped around to the back of the house out into a small grove of trees. He frowned as he approached. She was lounging in a hammock that was stretched between two trees. She was partially underneath the canopy of the trees where she wouldn’t be buried in falling snow. Her eyes were closed while she gently swung with the breeze of the incoming storm. His eyes grew wide. She wasn’t moving. How long had she been out here in this wicked cold? He shouted her name as he moved to her.

She jumped at the shout. The hammock swayed too much and dumped her into a deep drift of snow. He ran to her as she rose from the drift. Her back was to him and her shoulders were heaving. Was she hurt? He was furious with himself. He approached her and reached to gently turn her so he could see her.

He blinked.

She was laughing. 

He scowled. He glared at her while she calmed her laughing. When her laughing ceased, she looked up at him. “Is something wrong?” He stared at her. Her cheeks and nose were red.

“You were gone. Why are you out here? You are going to catch your death…” It all rushed out of him. She raised her eyebrows. 

“I am a little cold, but I will be fine.”

He shook his head. “You fell, you could be hurt…”

She smiled. “I fell into a heap of snow. I am uninjured…”

“But you are cold, you could be hurt and not know it.” He cut her off abruptly. She raised her eyebrows. She was about to open her mouth to respond when he grasped her arm to tow her back to the house. Not expecting him to drag her; she gasped and stumbled. He turned to her and wrapped an arm around her to steady her. She rested her hands on his chest and steadied herself. 

“What is wrong?” She asked softly before she stepped back from him. He let his arm drop. He looked down at her. He was overreacting and he gave her credit for how well she was handling it. He took a slow breath.

“You need to be inside. You shouldn’t be out in this cold weather…it isn’t good for you.” She took a breath and started walking. She didn’t put her hood back into place before stepping out into the wind. He ground his teeth and followed her. She made her way through the deep snow with ease. He watched her hair break free from the braid and follow the wind. He had to actively fight the urge to gather her up and carry her back to the house to make sure she was uninjured and warm. 

She made her way to the door and shook the snow from her. He reached out and grasped her arm. She looked up at him. “We need to talk.”

“We can talk inside.”

“Away from Sadie and Carl. Unless they know who you are…” She shook her head. “Another storm is coming in. Come stay in town with me. You are a healer, you should be closer to the town, especially in a storm.”

She took a long breath. She wasn’t certain she was capable of sharing close space with him. She opened her mouth to speak when Sadie opened the door, confirming that yes, she was spying. “That is a brilliant idea!” Sadie nodded and smiled before looking over her shoulder. “We certainly think so…we will be fine out here. You go, make sure everyone is doing well in town.”

“It is highly improper.” She said softly. 

Sadie laughed her loud, nasal laugh. “We aren’t royalty, child. No one cares.” She slowly blinked. It hadn’t occurred to her that they didn’t know who he was or where he was from. She took a long breath as Sadie waved them in. She stepped in, aware that he followed her. “Would you like some tea?”

“Thank you, no. Another storm is coming in and it is best we get back to town.” She ground her teeth. She had forgotten what it was like to have another speak for her. 

“Of course.” Sadie answered and looked at her. She slowly blinked and made her way to her room. This was going to be most uncomfortable. She softly closed the door behind her and started to pack a few items. She could have wrung Sadie’s neck for this. She was not ready to face the reality of her past. She had done rather well in keeping it where it belonged. Behind her.

But now, she would be trapped with him. She would be forced to think back on what had happened in her life and she would be forced to bring it to life by voicing it. She was not looking forward to this one bit. She wasted as much time as she could, but she realized that he was right. There was another storm coming in and she wasn’t keen on the idea of being outdoors in it.

She made her way out of her room, putting her scarf back in place on her head. Sadie gave her a hug and while she returned it she imagined shaking the mousy little woman. She didn’t. She hugged the woman and bid her good day before walking to him. He opened the door for her and she stepped out into the cold and started walking.

The wind had certainly picked up making conversation pointless unless they wished to indulge in shouting at each other. She spent the walk happy that she didn’t yet have to talk about herself, but miserable that she would have to soon. 

He walked her into his cottage. He watched her as he unfastened his cloak. She shucked her cloak and scarf and hanged them before stepping out of her boots. The bottom of her skirt was soaked. Her hair was soaked. He was certain she would be suffering a fever before nightfall. He waved to his room. “Your gown is soaked.” She nodded and went into the room, softly closing the door behind her. She let her bag slide from her shoulder as she leaned against the door.

He sat by the fire waiting for her to emerge. The entire time he was forcing himself to calm down. After all, she didn't belong to him. Of course, his instincts were screaming otherwise, she had been promised to him. Why was she on her own? She had been raised as a lady. She wasn’t raised to care for herself. Why in the world weren’t her brothers watching over her? Well, Jon at least, she had confirmed that he had survived. It angered him to think of what may have happened to her outside of their care. 

He could only hope that this was the only thing that would set him into a panic about her. If that was the case, then he could get through this without being too overbearing and she wouldn’t completely despise him by the time the storm passed. 

She finally emerged. She was wearing a different wool gown that was buttoned up her neck. Her wet hair had been brushed out and was in a long neat braid down her back. She looked at him for a long moment. She moved to sit across from him.

He reached out and took her hands. “You are freezing. I fear you will become ill from the cold.” He said softly.

She slowly blinked. “I will be fine.” He shook his head. He wasn’t sure how or where to start. “I should check your stitches.” He nodded a little, holding her hands for a bit longer. When she didn’t speak again he released her hands. She rose and put some water over the fire before walking back into the bedroom. 

She returned with a bundle of cloth. She set it down and held her hand out for his arm. He gave it to her. She unwrapped the bandage and gingerly removed the silk strips. She tossed them into the fire and moved the now boiling water from the flame. 

She took a cloth and let it slide off her fingers into the hot water. He watched her as she watched the water. He wasn’t used to her being so quiet. What had happened to her? She finally reached into the water and brought out the steaming cloth. She didn’t even flinch at the heat. As before evening she held it, letting it cool. She took her seat and brought the cloth to his arm. It was hot, not too much for him to bear, yet she had let it cool. “How is it you can do that?” 

“Do what?” She asked, her eyes not leaving the cloth she held to his arm.

“The heat. You have not flinched at the heat of that water.”

“I have grown used to it.” 

He sighed. Reaching out he took her chin and raised her face. Her eyes came up to his. They were clear, emotionless. “There is a point that flesh can handle heat before it burns. If that point was not today, then it was the other night when you took that towel from boiling water.” She slowly blinked. 

"It was not boiling." She simply answered before she turned her eyes back to the cloth. She removed it and gently wiped his arm clean before putting the cloth back into the water. She then wrapped his arm as she had the previous evening, first with silk and then with cotton.

“Amaryllis.” She blinked and looked at him. “What has happened to you.”

“I was gone. For a very long time. Now I am here.” 

He took a long breath and ground his teeth. “You aren’t answering me.”

“Many things have happened to me. I find it difficult to recount the horrors and joys that I had lived.” Once she completed bandaging his arm she looked at him. Her amethyst eyes were clear. No emotion.

“Why didn’t you come back?”

“The palace and city were overthrown. I didn’t have a choice where I would go.” She spoke clearly. Without emotion. Merely stating facts.

He took her hands. “You and Jon survived…” He spoke softly. “…perhaps others?” She lowered her eyes. He took a breath. “I had heard that Logan was killed in battle far from the palace…” She kept her eyes downcast. He paused, gently squeezing her hands. “Why hasn’t Jon been taking care of you? You shouldn’t be on your own.” She didn’t answer. His once talkative fiancée was now so very silent. “Do you belong to another?” He asked softly.

“No.”

“Did you have children?”

“No.”

He took a long breath. “If either had happened I still want only you. I just need to know what has happened.”

“I do not belong to anyone. I have never carried a child.” She said softly. 

“Did you belong to another?”

“No. I have lived alone for the majority of my exile.”

He slowly blinked and reached for her, intent to pull her into his embrace. In an instant, she was on her feet and had moved out of his reach. Startled, he looked up at her. Her eyes were focused and she was alarmed. He had scared her. She took a breath and slowly blinked, willing herself back to a relaxed posture. His emotions went to boil, though he was careful not to show her. He didn’t want to scare her again. He stood as she watched him. He held his hands out to her. She slowly blinked her eyes and moved to him, giving him her hands. She looked up at him. There had been a time when he could so easily read her mood by her eyes. Now, nothing. He could well imagine what had been done to her, her reaction to him screamed that she had suffered abuse of some kind. He gently pulled her to him, into his embrace. She stepped to him and rested her head against his chest as her arms slipped around his waist. He hugged her to him, resting his lips in her hair. 

She startled herself with her reaction to him reaching for her. She had not realized how deep-rooted into her reflexes it had become for her to stay out of the reach of men. She had always assumed that he would have been different. She rested against him, listening to his heart beat. She breathed him in. The feeling slowly washed over her. She hadn’t felt it in so long. It was almost foreign to her. 

Safe. 

She closed her eyes. She could almost imagine what life had been before she left him. She tried to focus on that. Focus on her memories of him. Slowly, like a poison seeping in, her memories of that horrible night crept to the forefront of her thoughts. She had done so well with slamming that night into the recesses of her mind. It was trying to break free here and now. Perhaps there was a part of her that knew that in this moment she was safe. She could break down. She was starting to shake. 

He moved, slowly, to lift her into his arms and sit with her. She rested against him as he wrapped his arms around her. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening. He assumed that she was trying to stomp down whatever horror it was that was trying to surface in her. Her breathing became stunted as her shaking increased. Whatever she was fighting seemed to be winning. He kept her wrapped tightly in his arms as she cried herself to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for kudos and comments.
> 
> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

She had spent the morning lounging in a hot bath. The servants were silent as they worked at washing and brushing her long hair. When they had completed braiding her hair they waited along the walls for her to leave the bath. She opened her eyes and saw them waiting. She slowly rose from the water, though she didn't want to. They sprang into action with towels and scented powders for her. Once she was dried and powdered she was wrapped in a silk robe and sat down while they tended to her hands and nails. The braid was undone as her hair was styled. They swept the long white locks back from her face to let it flow loosely down her back. Her hair was held in place by a diamond tiara. She smiled as she watched them place the Amethyst about her neck. It was her reminder that she would be wed soon.

They brought her gown out for her. She couldn’t say she cared for the current style of the court. She was not fond of corsets, but she was not about to complain. She slipped into her undergarments and held her hair out of the way as she was laced and tied into the unforgiving garment. As she was buttoned into her, somewhat revealing gown, she wryly realized that men most certainly invented the corsets. She really wasn’t THAT well-endowed. She was relieved that she didn’t have to wear such gowns in her new home. 

The gown was white and held together with pink thread. The train was embroidered with pink and red roses. The white gown made her look even paler than she actually was, but no one dared say anything to her. The King adored her and because of that, all else adored her. She had been the apple of his eye. Sure, she would never gain the crown. She had brothers. The King did find a way to make that up to her. He forged an alliance with the richest kingdom the world had known and had given his precious daughter in marriage to one of their young prince's.

Rumors persisted that he sent her so far away because she wasn’t the brightest or most graceful of creatures that ever graced the palace. No matter that, she was a stunning young woman and for that alone she was forgiven many things. She had come back to pay her respects to her new born brother. What she hadn’t known, was that her father took great pains to hide from her why her other brothers would not be at court for this feast. 

The king had not sent for her to return. He wanted her well and far away from the kingdom. However, when she did arrive he did not allude that anything had been amiss. She would be honored and then she would be shuttled away, far away, where she would be safe from the uprising that was threatening his reign. His gentle daughter did not need to see the cruelties of war. She simply was not raised to deal with such things. 

She had danced for most of the evening. Eating was almost out of the question, considering the restrictions of the corset. The king had finally come down from the table to dance with her. The ballroom parted for him and they were given plenty of space. He smiled down at her. "You are heading out at dawn?" She nodded. "Good, good. I will come to visit you when I am able. There are things here that I must see to before I travel again." She smiled. He had fallen uncharacteristically quiet for the remainder of the dance and once it was finished he kissed her forehead and gave her permission to retire. She affected a curtsy to him and to the queen as well before leaving the ballroom. As soon as she slipped into the darkened hallway she reached back and yanked on the corset strings. She loosened it just enough that she could take a large breath.

That breath was heaven. She started walking. Toying with the necklace. 

The attack of the queen played out in slow motion before her eyes. The men attacking the queen, there was something…familiar…about them. Before she could fully grasp it, the man saw her and she ran.

-

She was having a horrible nightmare. Her breathing had become so rapid it was alarming him. He was afraid to wake her, but he also didn’t want to leave her in her personal hell. Once she had cried herself to sleep he had carried her to bed and decided to sit in the room with her. Admittedly, he assumed she was falling ill from being out in the cold for so long. 

A dim light was cast into the bedroom from the fire in the main room. He could see her from where he was sitting, but she likely would not be able to see him. It was still day time, but the storm made certain no sunlight would reach them.

Her eyes suddenly opened, her breathing still rapid. She bolted into a sitting position as she looked around. He could see alarm cross her features. He moved to go to her. She caught his movement and made it to the door before he realized she was running. "Amaryllis…" Hearing her name made her pause long enough for him reach her and to loop an arm around her waist. Immediately he felt her fingernails digging into his arm. "Amaryllis…it's me." He said softly, close to her ear. She retracted her fingernails from his arm. He loosened his grip on her and turned her to face him, he put his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes were wide with terror even though she had managed to get her breathing under control. She slowly blinked and they were back in focus. The terror was gone. Just like that, she snapped herself back to normal.

“What just happened?”

She slowly blinked again and raised her hands up to rest on his arms. “I woke and was disoriented.” Another matter of fact answer. He knew there was much more to it than that. 

“You had a nightmare. Or was it a memory?” She closed her eyes and turned her face to the left. Finally, something familiar. She was about to deflect the question or change the subject. She had been such a horrible liar that she reverted to changing the subject more often than not.

“I had forgotten where I was.” He gave her a small smile. He reached to trace her eyebrow. She watched him.

“You didn’t answer me.” He said softly. She slowly blinked. That was something she had not done before. The slow blink, as if she was contemplating what she would say. He had to admit, it was mesmerizing.

“Both.” She finally answered in her soft voice. He traced his thumb over her cheek. He sighed.

“What happened? What led to them finding your necklace?”

Again, the slow blinking. “The palace and city were overthrown.”

“You have already told me that. You know that isn’t what I am asking you.”

“I was…rescued. It was not until we were far from the city that I realized I had lost the necklace.”

“How did you lose it? What were you rescued from?”

She closed her eyes. After taking a long breath she reached to unbutton the high collar of her gown. She pushed it to her left and revealed a short, but dark scar on her neck. She then held her knuckles against her throat and opened her palm, revealing the long, jagged scar on her hand. His heart sank. They had attempted to kill her. She let her hand fall and he pulled her into his arms. She wrapped her arms around him, her hands gripping his tunic as she rested against his chest. “I lived long enough to be rescued by someone who smuggled me out of the city.” She whispered.

Lived long enough. An odd turn of phrase. Especially considering how they had found the queen. He let out a breath. "Tell me what happened." She shook her head against his chest, solidifying his fears of what she had endured. He stroked her hair. "Tell me…"

“They were leading her and the baby out through the servant’s quarters. I was already in the tunnel. I had heard them coming…” She took a breath. “…they didn’t see me right away. They killed the baby, the servant, her guards…they didn’t kill her right away.” He closed his eyes. “Then one of them saw me. I tried to run…” She fell silent. He could feel the tension in her. “I was rescued when it came time for him to kill me.”

"Who rescued you?" He kept his voice level, but it was filled with anger and tension in it.

“I cannot tell you that.”

He blinked. “It is secret?”

“Yes. I promised him I would never tell anyone.”

He frowned and pulled back from her. He tipped her face up so she had to look at him. “Not even me?” He asked softly. “You would keep a secret from me?”

She blinked then closed her eyes. “I don’t have a choice.”

He cupped her face in his hands, mindful to not scowl at her. He did end up frowning when he felt how warm she was. “As I thought, you are gaining a fever.”

She raised an eyebrow. “No…I am not.”

“I can feel it.”

“I am warm, not feverish.” He sighed. She rolled her eyes, making him raise his eyebrow. “Why are you sighing?”

“Why aren’t you listening?”

“I am listening to you. However, I am not feverish. It is hot in here and I am buried in 50 pounds of wool. You would be warm to the touch as well.” He looked at her, wanting to laugh, but not certain how she would react to him laughing at her.

“Are you complaining?”

“Now who isn’t listening?” He chuckled a little, letting his hands settle on her shoulders. She smiled. 

“You did manage to find what might be the most modest gown I have ever seen you wear.”

“Someone was nice enough to remind me that it was cold outside.”

He nodded. “Yes, but you changed when we got here…”

"What exactly were you expecting me to change into?" He didn't promptly respond. She raised her eyebrows as she watched him. "Do I dare ask what you are thinking?"

He smiled and bent his head, meaning to kiss her. He paused, his eyes catching a glimpse of gold resting on her neck. He blinked and brushed her hair and collar back to hook the gold chain under a finger. He slowly pulled it, bringing his ring out from the bodice of the gown. His eyes fell to the ring and for several long moments, he said nothing.

“Why aren’t you with Jon? He should be looking after you.”

“I need to be looked after?”

“You are a princess…”

“What you mean is that I was not a very bright or graceful girl.” He raised his eyebrows, unimpressed with her summation of herself. She shrugged. “It’s the truth.”

“You were very graceful.”

“Not around horses.”

“Being a lady of the court you didn’t need to be.”

“I appreciate you gliding over the fact that I was an idiot.”

Again, the unimpressed look. “You weren’t an idiot.”

"Yes, I was." He groaned. "I would wager your father had people who did nothing more than follow me around so I wouldn't get too lost." He smirked a little. "I knew it…"

“He did not…” She raised an eyebrow. “My grandfather did.” She laughed. He looped his arms around her, folding his hands together behind her back. She stepped to him and rested her head against his chest. “If you have not been with Jon, where have you been?” She shrugged against him. “You cannot tell me? Is this another promise you made to the mysterious man that saved you?”

“No.” He groaned and rested his cheek against her hair.

“You are hiding things from me…”

“It is best this way.”

He sighed. “You will make me spend the winter asking?” She took a breath. “Don’t tell me to stop asking.” She chuckled.

"This is highly improper, to begin with…"

“Yes, it is. I would rather have you here where I know you are safe.” He stroked her hair. “You should be my wife.” He added softly. She nodded against his chest. 

“That was when we were someone in the world. Now, we are in exile.” She took a breath. “You are still considered a royal. I am not.” 

Banging on the door made her tense up and step away from him. She moved out of sight when he answered it. A group of men had been planning to make rounds to the houses to make sure the families would be able to make it through another long storm. He had agreed to go with them.

It was late when he had returned. She had left him dinner. He found her curled up in bed, sleeping. Her heavy wool gown was draped over a chair. He sighed, he wanted to join her but feared that she was, in fact, becoming ill. No matter how much she denied it. He quietly picked at his dinner wondering what she would think of marrying him when the storm passed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.  
> Time to take a quick look into that explicit rating.

He sat in silence looking at the bow. They had found her horse. He didn’t want to believe it. At least until he saw the bow. It was a unique weapon. Hand carved for her. Something didn’t feel right. He rose and walked out to find her horse. They had taken the saddle off and piled her belongings with it. He searched them. It was gone. The sword was gone. She finally ran. He smiled. They had thought her dead. She pulled it off. 

Now all he had to do was find her.

It would be slow going with the snow. His only comfort in that was that wherever she was, she wouldn’t be going far either.

\--

He opened his eyes. Then abruptly closed them again. The snow had slowed allowing the sun to come out and become a blinding outdoor spectacle. He moved and noted a blanket was draped over him. He rose from the chair and tossed the blanket over it. He walked to the bedroom to see if he was right and she was feverish.

He blinked and looked around. “Amaryllis?” No answer. “Amaryllis?!” Again, no answer. The bed was made. Her heavy gown was gone. Moving back to the door he noted that her cloak and scarf were gone as well. He sighed. Where in the world has she gone now? He turned to sit and pull his boots on when he noted that she had left him a cold breakfast. He growled to himself. 

He attempted to redirect his foul mood with cleaning up after breakfast. He had considered leaving several times to go find her, but he had no idea where to start and he didn't think it was the best of ideas to start pounding on doors looking for his wayward…well, that was another concern. She wasn't really his wife and there were people in the town that would not forgive her living with him for a long spell of time. Yes, the duration of the storm was one thing. Beyond that, he was certain she would bear the brunt of being scorned for improper behavior. No matter what Sadie said.

He paced about and when she didn’t return he finally made his way out. Religion wasn’t prominent in this town which left the sheriff in charge of such affairs as marriage. His intention was to speak with the sheriff concerning Amaryllis when he saw her step out of a house. She was speaking a young couple. 

Maybe he would just haul her with him then. That was a fine idea. During the walk, they could discuss her wandering about alone and in this cold weather.

She saw him immediately when she stepped away from the house. She walked to him. He looked down at her. “Amaryllis, are you trying to catch your death?”

She half rolled her eyes. “You and Sadie reasoned that it was best I stayed in town since I am a healer. Now you are scolding me for doing just that?” He scowled at her. “A good portion of the town can see us out here. Perhaps we should walk?” 

He groaned. Then nodded. “Did you have others to call on?”

“No. Are you out here looking for me?”

“I was going to speak with the Sheriff, but saw you and decided to wait.” He started walking, offering his arm. She took it and walked with him. She could only imagine what they looked like, tromping through the deep snow. The current storm had lifted enough to give them sunlight and tease them. 

“You are worried about me being out in the cold?”

“Yes.”  
“Then maybe I should wait in the cottage for you to conclude your business with the sheriff.”

He chuckled. “I had wished to speak with him concerning you.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I don’t want you suffering from rumors surrounding the fact that you are staying with me.”

“Are you going to tell the Sheriff to tell people not to spread rumors?” She asked with a chuckle.

“I had meant to speak with him about marrying you.” She paused. He stopped and looked down at her. He gave her a small smile. “Unless you don’t want me to.” She blinked.

“That isn’t it. You are still royalty. I am not.”

“Out here it doesn’t matter, but in reality, it would not matter anywhere. You were meant to be mine and you are the only one that I want to be with.” 

She stared up at him. She hadn't seen this coming. Why did he still want to marry her? Didn't he realize that if he regained his throne he would have to marry for political reasons? She was nothing on that front anymore. Unless he meant to stay there with her. Was that it? This would be home? She blinked, he was looking down at her, waiting for an answer. Why not. Why couldn't she be happy? She was free and he was here. She smiled up at him and nodded. They started walking again.

Things are done simply in small towns. There isn't pageantry or speeches. There might be drinking in the aftermath, but that was a given in the small towns. They were simply considered married when the sheriff gave his consent. They didn't really need his consent for that matter. They both consented and considered themselves as such. Either way, the sheriff had been pleasant and even congratulated them. Of course, if either were to return to their respective thrones their union most certainly would not be recognized. Royalty always dealt with some kind of religion and those religions had ceremonies.  
The wind and snow had returned while they were making their way back to his cottage. He let her in before following her inside and closing the door. She shrugged her cloak and scarf off before stepping out of her boots. She hung up her items as he did the same. 

She turned to look up at him. He brought his hand to her face, leaning to kiss her. She returned the kiss, her hands resting against his chest and slowly moving up around his neck. He moved his hands to rest on her hips. She tasted of spice and had the faint smell of lavender. She stepped forward, her hand sliding into his hair. 

He groaned and broke away from the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, his eyes remaining closed. Her hands found their way to rest on his shoulders. Her breathing was heavy. He took a long breath and cupped her face in his hands and opened his eyes. She looked at him with stormy eyes. He smiled a little and softly kissed her. She returned his kiss and he found the exercise in control to be pointless as he parted her lips under his again. His hands slid down from her face to her neck as they made their way to her buttons. He quickly unfastened the buttons and forced the wool gown from her shoulders. She yanked the tunic from him before she pulled her arms free so her garment would drop to her feet, he pulled her back to him and groaned into the kiss as he realized that a very silky undergarment remained. He wrapped an arm about her waist to lift her, the other hand guiding her leg around him. When he felt her legs wrap around him he carried her into the bedroom where he let her down on the bed. 

She looked up at him with indigo eyes, her breathing heavy. He slowly moved back from her, kneeling between her legs. She let her hands trail over his shoulders, her fingernails eventually trailing down his chest. White silk clung to her body, outlining her breasts and highlighting pink nipples. He blinked and moved his hands to her legs, slowly pushing the silk up as he leaned forward and softly kissed her neck. She arched herself to his touch as her hands went back into his hair. She was soft and warm and she moved with him while he pushed the short gown up her body. His mouth found hers again as his hands found her breasts. She sighed into the kiss as his thumbs rubbed over her nipples. He broke away from the kiss to pull the gown from her and let it drop to the floor. Once it left his fingers he let his hands moved over her soft body before he leaned over to draw a nipple into his mouth. He was rewarded with her gasping and arching into him as her hands buried themselves in his hair to try to hold him there. He worked his trousers from his legs as he softly dragged his teeth over her nipple before moving to the other. A soft moan escaped her this time and he groaned. He was more excited than he had ever been in his life. As much as he wanted to enjoy her and her delightful reactions to him, he couldn’t take it anymore. 

He kissed her and pulled her leg around him as he pushed into her. He barely registered that her fingernails dug into his back as she gasped into his kiss, the feel of her was overwhelming his senses. She was warm and tight; she had been ready for him, making his movements within her pure heaven. He bit and kissed her neck as he increased his rhythm. She gasped and moaned underneath him as her nails raked over him and tension built within him. He heard her cry out before the world melted away as her body contracted around him. He slowed during his release and rested his weight on his arms, letting his head drop on her shoulder.

After several long moments, he moved from her onto his back, tucking her to his side. She turned to him, resting against him with her hand on his chest. Her breathing had evened out and he wasn’t certain which of them fell asleep first.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

He had received news that she was dead. It was confirmed by those she traveled with. They had found her belongings. He sat in his ornate office and stared out the window. It upset him. She was his younger sister and really she should not have left his charge. Yet, who would have thought she would become what she had? 

She hadn’t been the brightest or even the most graceful. But she certainly was beautiful. Sadly the sacking of the palace had broken her. He was furious when he found out what happened to her. But even more so when he found out that she hadn’t been wed as yet. 

The stunning princess had been ruined.

He couldn’t send her back. It had been an aggravating set back that he hadn’t planned on. In fact, he had counted on sending her back to the safety of her in-laws. She was supposed to escape unharmed. Escape with a fear of returning to the place her parents were killed. Once she had been safely returned and once it was certain she carried a child he would restore order to the palace. 

Of course, she would have been the rightful ruler once he had done that. All he would have needed to do was pay her a visit. He would have preferred to time his visit after she gave birth. It ensured she would never leave. She would be vulnerable, overwhelmed and would want the burdens of her past home to stay away from her. He could give her this, she just had to name him her successor. 

That went down the drain when one of his men decided to rape her, then the fool almost killed her. He had gotten to them before her throat was cut. She had blacked out, and when he saw the massive purple bruise on her neck he assumed she would not survive it. As he was wrapping her in his cloak and noticed the jewel. It was hanging from her neck. He yanked the chain free and handed it to one of his men. “Take this to Erebor. Tell them she was found dead. Killed with the queen." The man nodded and left. He scooped his small sister up and carried her from the palace. He did like her. She was a good girl. And for that, he would not leave her there to die. He would see her comfortable until she passed, after which he would see a funeral pyre built. 

She survived. 

Since she survived he needed her. He just needed to ensure that she would have no interest in the crown. Her voice had been damaged and she was not to speak while she was healing. This worked well, he could calmly remind her that she had been ruined and that she needed to forget the life she was supposed to have. Her only chance left in the world was to shake off being a silly princess and become someone who could survive on their own. 

He made her read. Any and everything. She was restricted while she healed and she had to be kept in hiding. So, she would spend her waking hours reading. He had her write long summations of what she read and if he wasn’t satisfied that she had learned enough from the text, he would make her read it and summarize it again. It only took a couple of books before something changed. Her mind grasped meaning more quickly. She gained new perspectives and her reading became much more rapid. 

The healers kept her confined for months, by his order. He had to make certain that she didn't carry a further burden, courtesy of the rapist. In those months she read literature, lore, language, math, maps, strategy and healing. She was to read and learn as much as she could. 

When the healers put her in the clear for all potential health concerns it was time for her to learn to ride. He’d give her a couple of weeks before she trained with weapons. 

\--

For the last leg of the ride, she had been put on a horse. As if she wasn’t nervous enough already. Now she needed to be nervous about falling off the animal. She tried to enjoy the view. The town was glorious and she made certain to smile even though they couldn’t see her face, and wave to people. She rode next to her father, who was the king of the neighboring lands. An alliance had been made and she had been given in marriage as tradition dictated. 

She had been given minimal information on her betrothed. Not that it mattered. She could have been told everything about him. The contract had been forged, all that was left was the pageantry and ceremony for the people. 

They would be wed at a later date. It was decided that they would give the princess time to adapt to her new home. They had also agreed to let the prince and princess get to know each other a little before being tossed into marriage. They were both from very different lands and cultures and it was the first time their people have been aligned. 

Their horses were brought to a halt.

A small group of them were waiting to greet her party. He knew he wouldn’t have the luxury of choosing his wife. He had thought he would at least know her before she was given to him. Nope. He was told she was beautiful. The only daughter of the king. A king in a hedonistic society. He was forced to assume she was spoiled, vapid and ultimately useless. He found out mere minutes before seeing their horses approach that she was much, much younger than him. He had groaned. Grand. Add immature to the list of strikes against her. 

They were both on large, black horses. She rode next to the light-haired king. He was tall and fair. He held beauty much like the elves. He had an easy smile about him. He was dressed in black that was studded with sapphires. She was buried in a black cloak that had golden embroidery. Her head and face obscured by a hood. He leaped down from his horse with ease and reached to assist his small daughter from the saddle. He gently set her on her feet and she grasped his arm as he led her in their direction. 

King Edmund held a genial and pleasant look for the walk. When he stopped she did. He effected a bow as she curtsied. "Thank you for welcoming us into your home." Edmund spoke, his voice was silk and he felt genuine. They bowed in turn and remained silent as the kings engaged in friendly banter. For the life of him, he couldn't see past her hood. She remained still, her hand still on her father's arm.  
Finally, his king waved for him to take the girl on a tour while he spoke with her father. He nodded and stepped down to walk to her, mindful of her father’s piercing blue eyes watching him. Even with the look from her father, he said nothing as he offered the small woman his arm. She let her hand slide from her father’s arm to lightly grasp his as she stepped to him. She had not looked up at him, which kept the hood in place. He began walking and she silently fell into step with him. 

Her silence for the length of the tour was maddening and he began to wonder if she could speak. They reached an alcove as they were passing through a garden. He opted to stop, as they were alone, no prying eyes. She stopped as well and let her arm fall to her side, back under her heavy cloak when he turned to stand in front of her. “Do you speak?”

“Of course.” He blinked at her voice. Where her father’s voice was silk, hers was honey. 

He gave her a small smile. “I don’t believe I have been told your name.”

She shifted a little, looking up at him. She pushed her hood back from her face revealing delicate features and looked up at him with lavender eyes. She brushed a stray strand of white hair from her face before she spoke. “Amaryllis.”

\--

She was awake before he was. For the last couple of days, she had gone to sleep far too early and now she was awake far too early. The moon was still in the sky, dawn was a long way off. She considered rising, wondering if that would wake him. 

On the other hand, she was rather comfortable. She was curled to him, her head resting on his shoulder. His arm was still around her, keeping her close. She was warm and safe. It was in that moment she realized that somewhere in the last couple of days she had associated him with safe. It was the greatest feeling she could have. She cherished it more than love and romance. To feel safe. She closed her eyes.

Of course, he had no idea what she has been doing for all of the time they thought each other dead. She opened her eyes and frowned. She had become a terror in the night. A faceless, formless being that struck in shadow. A monster lurking, waiting for the order to come. 

But those orders will never come again.

She will be reported as dead. Now, it was imperative that she was reported as such and stayed out of sight. He cannot be brought into her mess. He had his own troubles. His people would eventually rely on him to bring his home back.

What of her people?

What if her people knew that King Edmund’s daughter lived? Would they want her to return? Would they believe that she could bring them peace? No. They would kill her. They weren’t her people. If they were, they wouldn’t have murdered her father. He was a good man. And a good king. 

She let a breath out and slowly moved, lifting her head from his shoulder. He stirred a little, the arm around her sliding down to rest a hand on her hip, hugging her against him. Could he even feel that arm? She had been sleeping on it. She was betting he couldn’t. She slowly let her hand glide off his chest and moved his hand from her hip so she could slip from his grasp. She carefully sat up and waited while he stirred and turned to his side, facing her. She remained still for a few moments before starting to move to slip out of the bed. “Did you have another nightmare?”

She froze at his soft words. So, she did wake him. “No, but I am up far too early and didn’t want to wake you.” She returned near whisper. 

“What are you thinking about?” 

“Lamenting on how much I dislike snow.”

He chuckled. “If you are able we can move closer to my sister come spring.”

“Able? Why wouldn’t I be? I doubt I will fall to invalid before spring.”

“I doubt that as well. Yet, if you are with child by spring, we will not risk you or the child with a move.”

She blinked. That had not even occurred to her. “Oh…of course…” 

He chuckled again. “Had you forgotten how children come to be?”

“Of course not.” She laid back down and when his arm slipped around her she turned to her side, keeping her back to him. He pulled her body close to his and softly kissed behind her ear. She knew he wanted to start asking questions. “What of the boys? Where are they?”

“They are with their mother. Making certain she is cared for during this season as their father is no longer with them.”

She closed her eyes. “Oh no…” He squeezed her, giving her another kiss.

“They wept when they had heard you were killed.” She took a long breath. “They adored you.”

“I adored them as well. I enjoyed reading to them.”

“Aye. Kili was fond of those days and laments he didn’t listen enough.” A small chuckle. “You will see them again.”

“They are no longer children.”

“No, but you were their beloved aunt. They have missed you.” She smiled. She had missed them as well. There was a time in her life when she wondered if her own sons would be as mischievous as Dis’s boys. Dis had assured her, yes. More so even, since they would be Thorin’s boys. They had a laugh over that and she came to realize how much she missed his sister. Dis had been so strong, so, no-nonsense. She had admired the woman. She had been more loved as family by his sister and nephews than she had her own siblings. Silence overtook them. His face was resting in her hair. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. It was making her skin tingle. She knew it was coming. He would keep asking after what she had been doing until he had an answer that fit whatever he was looking for. She had not asked him where he had been yet. She could well imagine, but she also knew it opened the door even further for him to keep asking her. 

He brushed her hair from the back of her neck and pressed a soft kiss there. The sensation sent a shiver over her, she closed her eyes as she leaned her head forward. She knew that he smiled before placing another soft kiss closer to her shoulder. She reached back and slid her fingers into his hair as she meshed herself closer to him. He groaned and rested his forehead on her shoulder. 

She hadn’t wanted him to stop and when he did she realized that he wanted to talk. She didn’t want to talk. She was certain she could convince him that talking could be put off until later. Or could she? She wasn’t certain what he would think of her initiating sex or if she was aggressive with him.

Who was she kidding? She knew exactly how he would react and what he would ask.

How many?

She sighed. That most certainly would be coming up soon. How many had she known while she thought him dead? Of course, how many had he known? He had admitted to having lovers before she was promised to him. That had never concerned her. Of course, upon her arrival, she had assumed that he would continue to take on lovers even during their marriage. It had been the norm in her home. Many of the nobles openly had affairs. She had merely accepted it as a part of life. 

She looked at the world differently now. She realized that he would not have another as long as he had her. It simply wasn’t in him as it wasn’t in her. 

She pulled her hand free from his hair and let it rest on the mattress in front of her. She felt his hand slide over her hip before he took her hand in his. She took a long breath. “Shall I make tea?”  
“Hmm?” He hummed against her shoulder, making her smile.

“You want to talk. Shall I make tea?”

He squeezed her again. “Yes.” She nodded and moved to rise. He watched her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

She slid from the bed with ease. He rolled to his back and watched her as she swiped up the short white silk garment that had been underneath her gown. She let it fall over her shoulders. She started working her long and mussed up braid loose as she left the room to put water over the fire. He lost sight of her for a few moments, but could faintly hear her moving about. She returned to the room with her long hair freed from the braid. She wasn’t remotely modest. She knew he was watching her and made no effort to cover herself, nor did she retrieve her heavy wool gown. 

He moved into a sitting position as she sat next to him on the bed. He traced his fingers over one of the thin straps on her short gown, letting his eyes fall to the ring that was suspended from her neck. He was fighting with the desire to pull her back into the bed with him and keep her there. But he was also fighting his questions on her. More questions arose now that they have been intimate. Her comfort with him was surprising. Her attack in the palace aside. Of course, he had just assumed that she had been raped. She had not actually voiced that. She merely stated she lived long enough to be rescued. He assumed the rest. If she had not been, then she had a lover at one time. He heavily leaned on her having a lover at some point. Her comfort with him and her lack of modesty led him to believe this. 

Where was he? Had she loved him?

He closed his eyes and scowled. She was his and he didn’t like the idea that she had been with another. He let his hand trail down her arm. His hand slid over a spot that wasn’t as soft as the rest of her skin. His hand stopped as he opened his eyes to look at it. The moonlight streaming through the small window didn’t give him enough light to actually see, but he knew it was a scar. “What is this from?”

“Hard to say.” He groaned at her answer. “I do not recall what specifically caused that. I could attempt to narrow it down, but it is insignificant.”

“You sustained a wound that caused a scar and you call it insignificant?”

“Yes. It was just a wound.” He raised his eyes to hers and raised an eyebrow. She smiled. “I am not made of glass…I don’t break very easily.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that.” She chuckled and leaned to kiss his cheek.

“Feel free to think on it.” She said, moving from the bed and leaving the room. He groaned and tossed the covers from him. He located and pulled his trousers on before stepping out of the room. She had poured the tea and was setting the kettle aside when he emerged from the room. She sat down on one side of the table and watched him as he took the seat across from her. At some point, she had located and draped her wool gown over her chair and was now sitting on it. She wrapped her hands around the cup while she watched him. 

“Where have you been? If not the palace, where?”

“That is a very broad question and possibly not exactly what you are looking for.”

“I most certainly want to know where you have been for the past several years.”

“I have been many places.” He raised an eyebrow. “Typically I live north of the city.” His eyes widened.

“The city? Where your family was killed?” 

“Yes. There is another city in the north. Considered a sister city.”

“You once told me of it. It was where your brother Logan lived. Among the monks.”

"They aren't monks, but yes. I typically live there when I am not traveling."

“You live with…them?”

“Yes. One of them saved me and got me out of the city. They have kept me hidden.”

“Why? If they are religion, why would they risk upsetting the incoming rulers? For that matter, who is ruling?”

“No one has taken the throne. The kingdom is managed by a committee until someone worthy claims the throne.”

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Since you and Jon are left, Jon should be king. Why hasn’t Jon taken the throne?”

“He’s not eligible.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Squeezing his eyes shut. This was pulling teeth. “Amaryllis…I am missing the days when you would just talk…”

She chuckled. “Jon wasn’t Edmund’s son. He was never considered a successor.” He opened his eyes and stared at her with an open mouth. “It was known that the queen had several lovers.” She shrugged. “The twins and I looked like our father.” 

“She was not tried for treason for her affairs?”

“Clearly not. It was common. Nobles openly had affairs. Why would the queen be any different?” He groaned and closed his eyes again. What kind of mess did she come from? “You wanted to talk.” She reminded him softly. 

He opened his eyes and watched her sip her tea. Her eyes were glittering. She was doing this on purpose. He took a breath. “Why are you out here?”

“I didn’t think I would make it back before the snow came.”

He sipped his tea. She wasn’t really lying, but she wasn’t really telling him the truth. She was giving him a vague answer. She was avoiding the direct answer. “Who are you hiding from?”

“Those that murdered my family.” A very neat and succinct answer. Hard to argue with it.

“You had a home.”

"Yes. One that I am far from and now the snow has arrived."

“How did you get out here?”

“I walked into this town.”

“From?”

“A different town.”

He took a long breath. “Before that?” 

“Yet another town.”

He scowled at her. “This is intolerable. Why are you so far from home?”

She slowly blinked and sipped her tea. “We were given orders that sent us to a town east of here. We had been sent another set of orders while there, essentially telling us to return. We were to go home and wait out the winter. That didn’t go as planned. Now I am here.”

He ground his teeth. He would ask her who ‘we’ is in a moment. “Explain the part you skimmed over when you said: that didn’t go as planned.”

“Mercenaries showed up at the Inn. We had to split up and leave the town. I picked a few up on my way out. I managed to escape all but one, but my horse was tired. He was gaining on me.” She took a breath. “He shot me. I was thrown. I was lucky enough to come out of that without much harm, but my clothing was heavily stained. I threw the bloodied clothing into the river and left my horse behind. I have likely been reported dead. I made it here and figured I would have the winter to decide if I would return.”

“How many were you?”

“There were just two of us.”

“What was his name?” He didn’t even bother to hide his irritation.

“Daven.”

“And where is he?”

“I do not know. As I said, we split up.” 

“Will he come looking for you?”

“I do not know. I am assuming he’s far from here by now. He wouldn’t have waited for me.”

“Waited for you?”

“I was supposed to meet him. I didn’t make it there. So, I assume he went home.”

“When was this?”

“I have been here for several weeks.”

“How many.”

“Seven.”

He nodded and lowered his eyes to stare into his cup. He was barely keeping his anger in check but wasn't even trying to mask annoyance. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t know what you are asking with that question.”

“You chose not to go home.”

“Yes. That is correct.”

“What are you hiding?”

“What are you asking me?”

He scowled. “I am asking why you didn’t meet up with your… partner and go home? You have the winter to decide. To decide what?” 

“Why are you so angry?”

“Why aren’t you answering me?!” She slowly blinked at the snapped response.

She regarded him without emotion and when she spoke her voice was level, calm. “You are digging for something specific. If that wasn’t the case you’d accept what I have said to you.” He narrowed his eyes. “You are the one refusing to ask the questions that you want to be answered. Don’t snap at me because you can’t control your imagination or your temper for that matter.”

She took a sip of her tea as he watched her. She had never challenged him when he was upset. She didn’t retort and certainly had not corrected his behavior. The reality of it was, he was afraid to ask her. He didn’t want the answer. He didn’t want her to confirm that she had just recently been parted from her lover. What aggravated him, even more, was that she knew it. She knew that was exactly what he was looking for and was keeping it from him. She was watching him. Her eyes were clear, no emotion in them. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” He forced himself to calm down. To stop overreacting.

“Do you think that I am enjoying your foul mood?” He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I assure you, I am not.”

“You can well imagine why this conversation is upsetting me.” He kept his tone level.

“No. You have no reason to be angry with me. What I have been doing while in exile is my business.”

“You were given to me. You are mine.”

She sipped her tea. “And you were given to me.” He knit his eyebrows together. “So. Starting from being notified I was killed why don’t you give me a detailed account of the lovers you have had.”

He scowled. “You were reported dead.”

“So I will take that as you not wanting to recap your intimate adventures.”

“Amaryllis...you were reported dead. I had attempted to move on.”

“I understand.” He blinked and nodded. “Now understand that you also were reported dead and that gave me the right to try to move on as well.”

He scowled. “That is different.”

“That is different? Are you joking?” She scoffed. “So you can enjoy yourself, but not me? I am meant to just die alone since my intended was killed?” He shrugged. Her eyes went dark. He was finally rattling her a little. “So, just spend my life with The Order and die a spinster.” He shrugged again. She looked at him for a long moment and lowered her eyes to her tea before sipping it. 

He watched her. Her dying alone was not the direction his thoughts had gone in. Yes, it annoyed him to the core that she didn’t outright deny taking any lovers. But, he did rattle her and she did mention The Order and since they weren’t monks, as he had thought, he was highly curious why she was among them and what kind of orders they were sending her. She kept her eyes downcast and he waited to see if she would break the silence. He was betting that she would not break the silence, but would reign in her emotions and go back to giving clipped and somewhat vague answers.

She stood and pulled the gown from her chair. He watched her shake it out and step into it, pulling it up on her shoulders. “If they aren’t monks what are they?”

She smoothed out the silk garment and began fastening the buttons. He didn’t want her to. He was enjoying her in her silk. “They are a non-political arm of the law that even the royalty is accountable to.” She said it in a flat tone, not even looking up at him. 

“I had assumed monks.” He said slowly rising.

“You assumed so because you were told that Logan had to abdicate the throne. To be a fully certified member of the Order you cannot have any political ties. Logan was, in every sense of the phrase, a second son. Mere seconds robbed him of the throne. Mere seconds made him the second son of a king. Even with that, there was a possibility that he could gain the throne. So, he had to abdicate it before becoming certified.”

“What of you. Have you become a certified member?”

“No. I merely work for them.”

“Then why haven’t you been placed as queen? It is your right, is it not?”

She looked up at him, her fingers pausing in their work on the buttons. “Why would I want that?”

He frowned. “They are your people. It is your duty.”

“My duty? My people?” She shook her head. “That is easy for you to say. Your own people didn’t kill your family. Mine did.”

“It is still your duty to make it right, to bring order to your lands.”

“Make what right? They killed off their rulers. Let them live in chaos or let them run to The Order and see what kind of mercy is gained from them.”

“Are you mad?” He nearly shouted at her.

“My father was stabbed in the back. Why? What did he do to deserve that? He was a good man and a good king.” She was speaking softly, fighting not to shout. “What of my mother? She was a good queen. She was fair. She was kind. What had she done in life to deserve what happened in her last moments? She saw her youngest, her infant, brutally murdered. What in the world did the baby do to deserve being dashed into a wall? And then she saw me, her only daughter. She knew my fate was going to be exactly as hers. Raped and murdered.” She was trembling, fighting to control anger. “Please…” She hissed. “…tell me why you think I owe those people anything.”

He blinked. Her eyes were almost black in color. He couldn’t recall ever seeing her angry, much less like this. She was absolutely furious. He spoke softly. “You were rescued. That should tell you that there were people who didn’t agree with what was happening.” 

“I was rescued by The Order before being murdered, but after I was ruined.”

He slowly blinked and walked to her. She watched him and looked up at him when he stopped in front of her. He reached out and grasped her hands and stepped to her, wrapping her arms around his waist. He pulled her against him, letting one of his hands bring her head to his chest as he placed the other hand on her back to press her against him. She rested against him, but she was tense. He softly stroked her hair. “You were not ruined.” He said softly. He felt her take a breath. 

“I was. That is the reality of it. That act alone had the possibility of bringing consequences that could have been lifelong.”

“Aye…but it didn’t. At least aside from your memory of it.” She took another long breath. There was something more to what was happening. Something he couldn’t get a grasp on. Her reaction was so visceral. Yes, what happened to her and her family was horrible. But was she truly seeing the enemy? Surely it wasn’t all the citizens of her father’s kingdom. “I wasn’t insinuating that you should have died alone…” He started carefully as he felt her stiffen more. He needed to move her away from the attack on her family. “…I don’t like the idea that you were recently involved with another. I worry that you will want to, or perhaps need to return to him.”

“Need to? I can take care of myself. I don’t need him to look after me.”

“That isn’t exactly what I meant…”

“Then what. Can you just come out and state what you are thinking?”

He smiled a little. “You were with him recently…you said earlier.” He frowned. “Why wouldn’t he wait for you? What if…he would just leave you behind?”

She groaned. “Good Lord. We had orders. We weren’t traveling the countryside on a honeymoon. That behavior could have created too many concerns.”

She was surprised that through all of the conversation he was only searching for whether or not she might be carrying another man’s child. Why couldn’t he have just asked her right away if that was his concern? She could have easily let him know that it wasn’t a possibility. Of course, he might have asked more about her relationship with Daven. She didn’t want to go too far into detail with that either. He didn’t need to know the extent of her relationship with Daven anymore than he needed to know that she made certain that she would never have carried Daven’s child. 

Instead, they had to go through several emotional waves to get to one easy answer.

And now he knew she was attached to the order. She knew that he would eventually question her on that. Especially with the definition of them that she had given him. She didn't want to have to explain anymore. She wanted it all to go away. She was with him again and to her, that was all that mattered.

At least she was trying to tell herself that. She was safe in these moments, as long as no one tried to find her she was safe. But he was clever, she was hoping that he’d buy that she was dead and leave her be. Yet, deep down she knew, he would look for her. She had to make certain that she wasn’t vulnerable. She would enjoy the seclusion that this winter would grant her, but she would have to figure on a plan in the event he did come for her.

He held her against him. She had fallen into silence again and had relaxed a little, but he could still feel the tension in her. He wanted to know what she was thinking about. She had, yet again, thrown out a statement that made him overthink what he was learning about her. He had a name, but he didn't have the actual extent of her relationship with the man. He realized in his rational mind how short-sighted it was to focus solely on the thought that she had willingly taken a lover that wasn't him. However, when it came to her he wasn't good with his rational mind. He didn't want to entertain the idea that she may have not only loved but given herself to another. She was his. His to protect. His to love, both emotionally and physically. She was the one he would share his life with, good or bad. She was the one who would bear his children. He rested his cheek on her silky hair. 

She took a long breath and he felt her relax a bit more. He smiled and stroked her back. He felt her fingernails trace down his in response. He closed his eyes and tugged at her gown. At least she hadn’t finished buttoning it.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

The Order was older than the city of Haxen. They were a collective of people that had left their homes to create a society of discipline, education, law, and order. A great keep turned to a city. The crowning jewel of said city was the opulent ivory tower that was attached to a large, rambling castle. 

Through large families and time, they were granted rule over the surrounding lands. Some retreated into the tower and it was those people who altered the laws. The surrounding lands were no longer considered of The Order. The Order needed to have discipline. For many following generations, those in the tower and her city lived very near as monks would.

They had watched as a small group of elves and men, both banished by their own, came together to build a city. They had assisted them and allowed this new city to be considered a sister city to their own. A formal name had never been and never would be given to their city, it was simply called The City as they were simply called The Order, and those who lived under the rule of Haxen knew that The City was where The Order was. 

When the ruler ship of the lands was established The Order was hesitant to give their stamp of approval. The citizens had chosen who they wished to rule and after years of negotiating The Order finally conceded to the installation of a monarchy. However, The Order had laws, laws that would be followed by everyone. This certainly included the monarchy and their chosen nobility.

Years and generations passed. The royalty of Haxen was a unique breed, a combination of elf and man. Some offspring showed traits of men. Impatience, lust for power, greed. Some showed more of the elvish traits. They were fair of mind, law, and beauty, still yet deep with emotion, some argued the existence of magical traits. 

With sadness, it was realized that the traits of men were breeding out the elvish traits and the beauty of the kingdom was being lost. It had become a rich and lovely society, but the ugliness of man was taking over. The monarchy made decisions that put The Order on alert. The monarchy and nobles actively began breeding out the men, in efforts to bring back the elvish traits of the society. 

It was already a rich society, now Haxen must be beautiful.

There are four positions within The Order. The base, the lowest are those paid to carry out commands. They were not certified members and they were free to leave at any time. They were considered employees, loosely called ‘members.’ They could earn a high wage for the tasks they completed or they could earn a reduced wage and live in the comfort of the city. As base members, they were not allowed in the Tower. 

The second layer of The Order was considered certified members. They had renounced all claims to land and power to live out their lives in service to The Order. They could wed, their mate had to be certified as well. While The Order frowned on children, it would allow some members to procreate. Permission had to be gained first. If it wasn't you had two choices. Give up the child, or leave. They could leave of their own volition if they wished, but if they decided to return to the world, they would never again be allowed to return not only to The Order, but they were also banished from the city of Haxen. Should they attempt to return to either they would face execution. These members resided in the Ivory Tower.

At the top, literally and figuratively there was the Leader and his staff. They carried no official title. As the Leader belonged to The Order his staff belonged to him in every sense of the word. They were the most devout of servants and it was considered an honor to be in that role. Even if your only duty to the Leader was to polish his boots.

The Leader would consult the Certified Members and discuss the political situations. Mostly, these discussions covered the evolution of laws. Societies changed and so must the rules of such. Core rules must remain of course, but as societies mature so must the view on the law and order. Overall it was rare that The Order felt the need to intervene. 

Unfortunately, the first purge was initiated over the breeding practices that the nobility had put into place. In the beginning, The Order ignored it. It could have been argued that certain physical traits had passed out of the preferences of nobility. Dark hair and dark eyes fell out of favor. Shortness in stature, for males especially, fell out of favor. 

The Order warned the monarchy and nobility that their behavior was unacceptable when inbreeding began. It wasn’t openly known at first, but as the younger generations lost the dark traits and seemed less and less as men it was readily apparent. The warning of a purge was given at this time. 

It was not heeded. 

The Order was forced to act. 

The purge began with sending the ‘members’ through the border lands. They were given orders as to who lived and who died. This wave of executions was to serve as a harsher warning to the nobility in the city of Haxen. Nobles fought back and hired mercenaries to hunt down those who wore the colors of The Order. The mercenaries were no match for the training and discipline of the members. It had been left to the members on how to deal with the mercenaries. They could leave them with their life or kill them. That was not a concern of The Order or its Leader. 

The first purge ended with the Noble's failure to stop the advance of the members. In a display of power that was limited to the remaining nobility and monarchy, the Leader himself executed over half of them for their immorality and failure to heed to The Order. 

The king was spared. His queen was not. Their children were not. He was spared with the caveat that The Order would choose his next queen and the children this new queen bore him would be his heirs.   
The Order faded back to their tower in their city and a few more generations passed. Generations that fell into lifestyles of excess as their wealth dictated. They danced, sang, openly had affairs and left the work to their people.

The common people were drawn to The Order. They were a change from the gluttonous nobles. This shift began the idea that The Order was of religion, while it was not, they did not openly deny this idea.

King Edmund ascended to the throne when he was a young man. His father died of consumption and The Order believed that Edmund would not fall into the traps that his father did. Edmund, for all intents and purposes, was the perfect man to be king. He was a skilled warrior and had a sharp intellect to him. Yet, he was also kind and had an easy and light manner to him. He was genial and easily liked. A tall man with sharp blue eyes and hair so fair it was near white, he was easily the most attractive of the men in the kingdom. 

He chose not to marry right away. In his first few years as king, he worked with The Order. He agreed with their policies and ideals and the following years brought about a prosperous time as the nobility tamed their excesses and the common people once again thrived. 

\--  
He sipped his wine and looked out over the gardens. It was getting late and she was slowing down. She had spent the last couple hours telling him of her day. He inwardly chuckled. Whether or not he asked, he would get a full summary of what she had been doing with her day. He could have completely tuned her out and she would have kept going. He didn’t, he would occasionally ask her something and that would lead her off into a completely different rabbit hole. 

She had mentioned a new name and he debated on asking her about it. He wasn’t certain how long of a story he would get for his answer. She concluded her current thought, which revolved around her recent discovery that the very flower she was named for made her sneeze. She found it not only highly humorous but strangely ironic considering she didn’t much like her name.

She looked at him and smiled. Her lavender eyes were glittering with humor. Her hair was pulled back from her face into a pony tail which was draped over her shoulder. He smiled in return and reached to brush her hair off her shoulder. He let his fingertips trail off her shoulder and down her arm before he grasped her hand and lightly tugged her, urging her to move to him. 

She left her chair and moved to him. He pulled her into his lap and she rested her head on his shoulder. He had found that she had a tendency to relax and eventually fall to silence when she was sitting with him. He wasn’t sure why she did that, but he found it a pleasant way to curb her talkative side. He wrapped his arms around her and listened to her soft breathing for a moment. Finding he didn’t yet want to leave her for the evening he decided to ask. “Who is Ryden?”

Her head shifted on his shoulder as she looked up at him. He turned to look at her and smiled a little before softly kissing her. She returned the quick kiss and smiled. “I haven’t mentioned him yet?”  
He chuckled. “I can honestly say I have yet to hear you mention him.”

"Well, that is weird. I should have mentioned him at least once by now." She frowned a little. "Are you certain I haven't mentioned him…"

He chuckled and kissed her again, mostly to stop her from wandering into a rabbit hole surrounding why she hasn’t mentioned this mystery man. He spoke softly, his lips against hers. “Amy…Focus…” She blinked. He sat back, still looking at her. “Make this a short answer. Who is Ryden?”

“My eldest brother.”

He raised his eyebrows. "Older than Logan?"

“Yes. That is why I am surprised I haven’t mentioned him. He was Logan’s twin.”

“Was?”

“Yes…he was killed last winter.” She said softly as her eyes clouded. He squeezed her close to him and kissed her hair. 

“I am sorry…” He said softly. She nodded a little and slipped her arms around him. He sat with her resting against him as he sipped his wine. Her breathing slowed and he knew she was getting drowsy. One of the guards approached and bowed. He nodded to him. 

“Your Highness…” She jumped at the new voice and he was thankful he had set his wine down. He blinked, still looking at the guard. “…a message.” The guard held out a letter for him. He took it and waved the guard away. She had settled back onto his shoulder. He looked at the seal. It was a rose. Her mother sealed her brief missives with red wax and a rose. 

He kissed her hair. “It’s yours…” he spoke softly. She stirred a little. “...do you want me to open it?” 

“Mmhmm…” She murmured. She was close to dozing off. It still surprised him how quickly she could wind down and become sleepy to the point of dozing while on his lap.

He cracked it open and looked at it. Her mother, from what he had learned, was a strange woman. There were occasions that several missives would be delivered to her during the course of one day and then nothing. Days would pass, then another storm of letters from her mother. They weren’t really letters, they were random thoughts or sentences. Very brief. And, her mother varied the language she would write in. In this particular note, for it seemed to be only one sentence, she chose not to relay the information using the common language. He could not read or speak her native language. He rested his cheek on her head. “Haxen…” He said softly.

He assumed that she had fallen asleep. Until she softly spoke. “She is expecting another child.” 

“When?”

“She didn’t say.” Her voice remained soft, near whisper. He set the letter aside and hugged her. 

They should have been married already. Political duties had forced him to take a trip shortly before the date that had been set for them to wed. He had hated to deliver the news to her. To tell her that it would be postponed. She handled it well and had been very understanding of the situation, but he had seen it in her eyes. They had gotten cloudy and seemed to turn gray. Sadness. That was what he had seen and he wagered that if he looked into her eyes right now he would see the same. She would behave as if she was happy for her mother, her manners demanded it. She wasn’t necessarily upset, merely she was saddened that she wasn’t the one sending the news to her mother instead. 

He kissed her hair and rose, lifting her. She shifted and wrapped her arms around his neck before she returned her head to his shoulder. He carried her to her chambers and set her on her feet outside the door. She looked up at him. He had been correct; her eyes were gray and cloudy. He bent to softly kiss her and pull her into his embrace. She hugged him in return. "Soon, Amy…” He whispered. She nodded and offered him a smile. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

He stepped back as the guards opened the door for her. She gave him another smile before stepping into her chambers and the doors were closed behind her. He sighed and looked at one of the guards. “One of her letters was left in the garden. Make certain it is returned to her.” The guard nodded and he walked away. He shook his head at the thought of her mother having another child. Her brother Logan, who he just learned had a twin, was a decade older than her. She was very close in age to her brother Jon, mere months separated them, but now, this one. From eldest to youngest child was close to 3 decades. He wondered if her mother had sent that note as some kind of nasty jab at her. He knew well how much she had wanted children. Certainly, her mother knew as well. It wouldn’t be much longer and they would be wed. He hoped that a child would shortly follow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

The moonlight they woke to was short lived. The storm had merely been teasing them yet again with a break. 

After her confession that she had at the very least been traveling with a man named Daven and that she was working for The Order he had opted to take her back to bed. She hadn't resisted him, in fact, it seemed that she was in complete agreement with him in that was where they belonged. 

Once they had begrudgingly left bed she had kept the conversation in her favor by asking him about where he had been and what he had been doing. Her questions were focused, clear and she found ways to elicit long stories from him. She had also surprised him in that she was not only capable of cooking, she was rather good at it. After they had taken breakfast, she seemed to run out of questions for him and they had fallen to silence. She had brought a book with her and sat by the fire to read.

He left her to her book and opted to stare out the bedroom window at the falling snow. He used the silence to mull over what they would do come spring. He even entertained the idea of making their way closer to his sister now. He didn’t know if she was able to travel in this kind of weather, but if she could it might not be a bad idea to do so. He would feel better if she was settled near his sister, especially if he was forced to leave her at any point. 

He didn’t know how long he had been lost in his thoughts. He turned his head and could see her wrapped up in a blanket, by the fire. The book was folded closed on her lap and her eyes were closed. The downside of weather such as this. There was little to do and sleep seemed the easiest way to pass the time. He turned and took a step away from the window. Her eyes snapped open and focused on him. He raised an eyebrow. She mirrored the gesture. 

He made his way to the large chair and sat. She watched him, silent. He smiled and held a hand out to her. She rose, keeping the blanket wrapped around her and made her way to him, setting her book down on the way. She took his hand and he gently urged her to onto his lap. She did so, shifting the blanket so it covered them both. He wrapped his arms around her as she settled her head on his shoulder. She hadn’t bothered to pull the wool gown back on, she was wearing the small silk gown. He rested his head against hers.

He didn’t want to break the silence, but he knew it was inevitable. He had questions for her, but he didn’t want to upset her again. Of course, when he rattled her, she slipped and gave away information. He smiled a little to himself. He shouldn’t be humored at the idea of making her angry, but it was something new to him. Something different from the genial and easy manner that she had carried while they were together in Erebor. “When you aren’t traveling you live with The Order?”

“Mmhmm” She murmured. Her breath washed over his neck as she rested her hand on his chest. He hadn’t bothered to put anything other than trousers on. He closed his eyes. 

“What do you do while there?”

She took a breath. “I spent most of my time alone, reading.”

“What of your…partner?”

“While he was employed by The Order he was forbidden entrance to the tower.”

He frowned, the word forbidden wasn’t reassuring to his character. “Why?”

“Fringe members are not allowed in the Ivory Tower.”

“I thought you were a fringe member.”

“Yes.”

“Amy…”

She sat up and looked at him. He had no idea what to think of that. He steadily looked at her, moving his arms around her waist. She shifted so she was facing him, her knees on the chair outside his legs.   
She finally shrugged. “I am the only fringe member allowed entrance to the tower.” He kept his gaze on her, remaining silent. She closed her eyes and turned her face to the left. “I am next in the line of succession…” She opened her eyes. “…they protect me because of that.” 

She was lying. He wasn’t certain if she was lying to him outright or if it was a lie of omission. He assumed the latter, she didn’t seem to want to give him much information. “A non-political arm of the law is protecting the woman who should be named queen.” She slowly blinked. “The only surviving legitimate member of the royal family.” She blinked again. “The one they saved.” She didn’t speak. She watched him, her eyes remaining clear purple. “I believe there are many things you aren’t telling me.”

“There is little to tell. I live alone in the tower." He regarded her as she, in turn, looked at him. He closed his eyes, ready to ask her something when she cut him off abruptly. "I really should take a look at your arm."

He opened his eyes and frowned at her. “My arm is fine.” She gave him a dry look. Wordlessly letting him know that she didn’t care to be argued with. 

“I wasn’t asking for your input.” Her tone was as dry as bone. He raised his eyebrows and laced his fingers together behind her back. He took a breath to speak. “I was informing you that it should be done sooner, rather than later.” He frowned. She cut him off again. She remained expressionless. 

“You are arguing with me.”

“No. This is your doing, not mine…”

“Amaryllis. Stop arguing.” He didn’t shout, nor show irritancy or anger. He let the deep timbre of his voice convey that his pleasant mood was rapidly diminishing. She blinked and rested her hands on his chest. He took a long breath. “We were discussing what you aren’t telling me about your residency with The Order.”

“I cannot speak to generalities such as that.”

He raised an eyebrow and wondered if she was intentionally testing his patience. “Did they order the attack on the palace?”

She blinked several times slowly, keeping her gaze on him. “They had been warned that The Order was not satisfied with some practices.”

“That did not answer my question.” She tensed up a little. The only indication of her not wanting to answer the question. Of course, her answer raised more questions. “Were they behind the attack on the palace?”

“It is not that simple.” 

“How can it not be? Yes, they were behind it. Or, no, they were not.”

“The world doesn’t work in black and white.”

“I understand that. I am trying to find out who was behind the attack on the palace which resulted in the attack on my wife.”

“What happened to me was not because of The Order.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Then who?”

“An individual acted on his own.” 

He closed his eyes and laid his head back on the chair. “Who then?”

“I do not know his identity.”

He ground his teeth. “Is he a part of The Order?” He fought to make certain he wasn’t yet shouting. 

“Yes.”

He lifted his head and snapped his eyes open. She remained expressionless, her clear lavender eyes on him. “You are contradicting yourself.”

“I am not. You aren’t listening.”

He took a long breath. Mostly because he didn't want to shout at her, however, he did end up snapping at her. "Explain." 

She slowly blinked. “Having little or no control over your temper can be a crippling weakness.” He was ready to shout when she cut him off. “I have answered your questions and my answers have a rhyme and reason to them.” She remained completely calm.

He closed his eyes. She had to be doing this on purpose. There is no other reason. “Do me a favor and connect your line of thought for me since, clearly, I do not have near the intellect that you do.” He snarled before laying his head back on the chair again. 

“I was not insulting your intelligence.”

“Amaryllis!” He kept his head back and his eyes closed. He didn’t want to scare her, but he was losing his temper.

“I am sitting on your lap. There is no reason to shout.”

He opened his eyes and shifted in the chair to sit up straight. She managed not to lose her balance and remain on his lap facing him. “Explain.” He growled lowly.

“I was attacked by a member of The Order but not by the command of The Order.” 

“How do you not know his identity?” She frowned and a look of confusion quickly crossed her face. Reactions he didn’t count on. 

“Why would I?” He looked at her for a long moment. She shifted her gaze to the window, her eyes were starting to cloud up. They were getting dark.

“Amy…” Her eyes snapped back to him. She slowly blinked and just like that, as the night before, she had brought herself back to normal. Lavender eyes regarded him. “…is he still…alive?”

“I do not know. I do not know his identity.”

"How do you not know anything about him?"

"I would rather talk about something else."

“What was the command given by The Order?”

“I would rather we spoke of other things.”

“Amy. I am trying to understand what is happening.”

“You are asking me about things that I don’ t like talking about. That is what is happening.” He groaned. “I don’t like covering what happened when I went home and there is little to talk about concerning my life since then. I live quietly.”

“What do you do when you travel?”

“I carry out orders as given by the Leader.”

“So you are not only special enough that you live with them, you have contact with their Leader.” She closed her eyes and turned her face to the left. He smiled a little. She was going to avoid the question or lie. He found another soft spot. She shrugged and moved to push herself from his lap. He kept his fingers laced at the small of her back. She opened her eyes and looked at him when she realized that he wasn’t about to let her go.

She scowled. “Yes. I have contact with the Leader.”

“Who is he?”

“I cannot tell you that.”

“You should be able to tell me anything.” She moved again to try to stand. “Amy.”

“I don’t want to talk anymore.” He frowned and released her. She slid from him and stood, taking the blanket with her. She turned to walk into the bed chamber. 

He rose to follow and scowled at the thought that flashed into his head. Before he realized he was saying it, he asked. “Is he your lover as well?" It was instantaneous, he didn't even realize she was turning again. Until her hand connected soundly with his cheek and his ears rang with the sound of the slap. She moved out of his reach before he registered what had just happened.

\--

He had spent the previous evening enjoying the company of a lovely red-haired woman. He considered staying an extra evening, a storm was passing through and he was certain that he wasn’t losing much time in his pursuit. 

But he wanted to find her first. 

Maybe others would look for her, maybe not. No matter which, he would find her first. He wandered through the doors, immediately looking for the red head. She was plastered all over a rather young man who seemed to be faring well in a card game. He would see if the money ran out on the young man if so, he'd stay. If not, he would leave. 

He took a seat at the bar and nodded to the bar tender. In short order, a warm pint of beer was set before him. He tossed a few coins on the bar and turned to watch the game. He took a long drink and chuckled into the cup as he saw the young man lose the large pot at the center of the table. He would get his red-head after all. He smiled when the red head saw him. She smiled as well and began to move away. He couldn’t pay entrance into the next hand, he certainly couldn’t afford her affections. 

He could hear the man protesting and attempting to argue his way into the game. He watched her as he listened. What was her name Jenny? Genie? Who cares. A chance glance over her shoulder suddenly made him more interested in the game than the woman.

He rose and slipped past her. She stared at him with an open mouth. She planted her hands on her hips and watched. He sipped his beer as he watched the men argue over the value of the object the young man had.

The dealer looked at him. “You looking to take the open seat?” He asked gruffly nodding to the young man.

He shrugged. “How much?” 

He shrugged. “100 will get you in.” He blinked and wandered to the chair the young man was now petulantly planted in. he looked at the young man then the dealer and then…Joanie? Was that her name? He sighed and dropped the coins on the table in front of the boy, snagged the item he was attempting to barter and sauntered over to…Ginger?

He stopped in front of the woman and smiled down at her. “Shall we, darlin’?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

In the moment, it had seemed the thing to do. However, after the moment she realized it was a horrible thing to do. She wasn't afraid of him hurting her in retaliation. She just realized that her reaction would warrant an in-depth explanation. She was forbidden to talk about these things. He was right, she should be able to tell him what is going on, but the reality of it was there were too many moments that she wasn't sure what was happening.

He had gone quiet. She had shocked him, she well knew. She also knew she needed to make the next move. His eyes had turned hard and cold after the slap and she did well to keep her expression neutral. Of course, she was breathing heavily and had just struck him, at this point, there was little reason to keep calm and controlled. However, she would attempt to do so. She didn’t need this to escalate to a physical match, for she would have no chance against him. Not that he’d hurt her. Nor would she really be able to hurt him. In fact, that might actually be highly entertaining.  
She scowled. Well, this wasn’t the time and place for that.

Well, it was. They didn’t have anything else to do.

She inwardly groaned and ground her teeth. She slowly blinked and focused her eyes on him again.

He would have given a small fortune to know what was racing through her thoughts. Her eyes had clouded, cleared, then clouded again and then her face flushed. Then the slow blink came that reigned it all back in. She took a long breath. "No. He is not." She spoke stiffly and overly controlled. It made him even more curious about the nerve he struck. He almost got her to lose her temper, she had come so close, he could see it.

He wondered what she would do if pushed that far. Would she attack him? Would she run? Would she shout at him? “Your reaction says otherwise.” He decided to find out.

“I apologize. That was an…unfortunate response and ultimately unwarranted.”

“Who is he?”

“I cannot discuss that.”

“What does he have you do?”

“I cannot discuss that either.”

"He owns you." He said it coldly, meaning to push her back to anger. She was calming down again since the conversation seemed to be moving back into her favor.

“No…”

“Yes. He owns you. You cannot tell me who he is or what he has you do.” She narrowed her eyes. “You might as well admit what you are.”

She blinked. “And what am I?” She hissed.

"Considering what you have told me. His group orders an attack on the palace. You specifically were not to be hurt, but you were...so you are saved and housed by them…" Her eyes were dark as she watched him. He was almost glad he was out of her reach, his cheek still had a sting from her slap. "…you live there, you keep his identity your secret. What you do for him is secret. I believe you are his mistress and now you are hiding from him.” 

“No. That is not correct.” She had moved from hissing, but her voice was strained.

He went back to his chair and sat. “You were a couple of towns away, with your lover, and you received orders to return.” He laid his head back on the chair and closed his eyes. “You had a chance to run. You took it. You left behind a man who has most certainly reaped many rewards for keeping you, the rightful heir as his mistress. If he had put any thought into it, he would have guaranteed that you stayed by making certain you had an heir as well.” He couldn’t see or hear her, but he was certain she was furious. “He will come for you and he will return you to your position.”

“I am not his mistress.” Strained whisper.

“How am I to know this. I have no idea who this man is or why he is keeping you as a…pet.”

“I am not kept as a pet; in fact, I am held in high regards by them.”

“Of course you are. You are their leaders’ mistress.”

“That is not why.”

He was afraid to look at her, her voice was so strained he was having troubles hearing her. He may have pushed a little too far, but the more he voiced his thoughts, the more they made sense. It was a painful revelation to him. “It is, Amy. I only wished you have told me sooner.”

“I am not his mistress…I am not as loose as you seem to think I am.” Her voice wavered.

He took a long breath. He needed to think. He couldn’t even force her to answer questions. He believed her. He also believed that she was in trouble. Trouble she was trying to shield him from. That seemed strange to him, why is she trying to protect him from her life? 

\--

She retreated into the bedroom. She let the blanket down and took up her gown. She pulled it onto her shoulders. He was right. She was painting him a horrible picture. She did want to tell him, to explain what was going on, but he didn’t need to be involved. What if she sent word back to the Leader that she had found her betrothed and wanted to stay with him. What kind of response would she get? She assumed he’d leave her be, but, there was the reality that she was the rightful ruler.

She hated politics.

She was good at it. She learned well how to handle herself and a court of people. She still hated it. She would sit with them and they would smile at her and flirt and tell her silly stories. They all thought she was an idiot. She quickly learned to use that in her favor. Men loved beautiful, stupid women. And men loved to talk to try to impress them. The information they gave her without realizing it was ridiculous. Information that the Leader had counted on. It was what was best for their society.

She buttoned her gown and sat down, looking out the window. 

Was that what her mother did while she was queen? Play the fool to gain information for the king? No. She did not, she wasn’t involved in the politics. She hadn’t wanted to be. Her father handled the politics, he handled the lords. He did it without support from his mate. 

There was something on the fringe of her memory, a flame that had receded to ember that she just knew, felt, she needed to fan. 

She took a long breath. He was her mate. No, she was not the same. Nor was he. She didn’t want to be as her mother was to her father. She didn’t want to live with that kind of a relationship. It wasn’t a relationship; she didn’t want to live with that lack of relationship that her parents had. 

On silent feet, she moved to lean in the door frame. He hadn’t moved. “Logan is in charge of The Order.” He raised his head and looked at her. “The Leader that Logan took over from had given my father the warning that a purge would be coming if he didn’t handle something to their liking.” She took a breath. “My father and the former Leader came to an agreement and The Order returned to their city. Tensions remained and grew. It was why he sent me away. He didn’t want me to be a part of it." She slowly blinked. "After Logan ascended to Leader the agreement was breached and he was forced to act. My father and I were not to be harmed. We were supposed to be evacuated to The City." She closed her eyes and fell silent. She took a long breath. “Another attack came on the palace the same day. That is all I wish to speak of for now.” She left the door frame and sat by the window in the bedroom and stared out of it with vacant eyes. 

He had not heard her movements and had been startled at her soft voice. Her eyes were cloudy and sad. He had so many questions. He didn't want to push her any further. For a moment, he saw the sheltered and vulnerable girl he remembered from his home. 

He stood and walked into the bedroom. She was sitting, looking at the snow. He stopped behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. She was tense. She didn’t move. He was fighting himself and the questions that he had, he feared that if he asked her anything she would revert to her minimal answers. She had shown him trust by freely giving him information and he couldn’t violate that. He spent a few moments massaging her shoulders wondering what exactly she was seeing as she looked out the window. He bent to kiss her hair. It was against his instincts, but, he had a feeling it would help clear the air of the nasty day they have been having. “Would you like to take a walk out in the snow?”

She blinked. She certainly didn’t expect that. “Do you now wish for me to fall ill and catch my death?”

“No.” He squeezed her shoulders. “I believe it would do us both good to get out for a bit.” She nodded and stood. He moved to dress as she left the room. He followed once his clothing was in place. They remained silent as they pulled their outer wear on and he opened the door for her to exit. 

The wind had stilled, but the snow had not. Large, fluffy flakes were falling. He wrapped his arm around her and they began to walk to the center of the town. She walked close to him and remained quiet.  
They could hear the children before they could see them. They made their way to the group of young children that were attempting to build a fort. They were surprised to see a couple of the fathers helping with the building. A shout caught his attention. Van was waving him over. He inwardly groaned a little. He looked down at her and she offered a small smile. “Go ahead, I will stay here and see how everyone is doing.” He nodded and gave her a quick kiss. She watched him walk away for a moment before she resumed moving in the direction of the kids.

Van had a couple of questions for him which turned into a project that took a couple of hours to complete. Once it was done, Susie popped up. He was surprised that the news of him and Amy had already circulated. Susie had been happy for them and even had created a basket for them as congratulations. He had tried to beg it off with Susie, but she was having none of it. Clearly, Susie had wanted Amy away from the healers as well.

He did finally manage to escape them and make his way back to where he had left Amy. She was sitting with a small group of children who were now accompanied by their mothers. She had a little girl sitting on her lap and she was telling a story. He smiled a little and listened to her finish the story about how a farmer’s daughter met up with a mysterious knight and they had gone on an adventure where she was brought to a great and beautiful city. She described, in great detail, the landscape and the castle that they had gone into before the story turned into a humorous anecdote for the children to giggle over. 

When she was through the children circled around her and she hugged them all before speaking briefly with their mothers and hugging them. She slowly made her way in his direction as she waved at the children and bid them good night, some of them several times. 

She was smiling as she approached him, her eyes glittering. He smiled again and held his arm out for her. She took it and gave the basket a quizzical look. “Susie sends her congratulations.” She chuckled and nodded as she fell into step with him. “I am amazed at how fast news can travel.”

“Well, Susie is the Sheriff’s daughter. She’d likely hear about us first.”

“Really? I didn’t know that…”

“Mmhmm. She had a younger brother that died when they were children.”

“That is unfortunate.” She nodded a little. “Susie and Van do not have children, correct?”

“Not yet.”

“Yet?” He raised his eyebrows.

"Yet, as in near the end of winter, they should."

“Oh. I see.” She chuckled. “What of Sadie and Carl?”

“No, no children.”

“Well, I can’t say that is a bad thing…she’s…unusual.”

“Not for lack of trying, mind you. I know, she talks a lot. But she needs people and I think the fact that she has not been able to have a baby has weighed on her heavily.”

He nodded, not having anything to add to the thought on Sadie. “Were you describing Haxen and its palace?” 

“Yes. I described the view of it if you were to enter from the north.”

She chuckled a little. He raised his eyebrows. “What is humorous?”

“It isn’t really humorous, I suppose.” She shrugged a little. “I was the first royal to be given to someone outside our borders.” He blinked and looked down at her for a moment. “And…Haxen has never hosted foreign royals.”

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Were you frightened by the idea of idea of leaving your lands?”

“Perhaps a little. Nervousness was the dominant feeling over that entire trip.”

“Nervous?”

“New society, new people, new lands…” She chuckled. “…a mountain…” He paused in his step and looked at her curiously. She looked up at him. “…there aren’t any mountains in Haxen.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised.

“Is that so?”

“Mmhmm.” She nodded. “So, you can imagine how nerve wracking it was to consider that people lived in them…” He started them walking again. “…I mean…that is a lot of earth above you. It could just…fall.” She laughed. “Okay, I suppose there was a great deal of fright on my part in the beginning of the trip. The end was nerves. Especially the last bit of the trip.”

“The realization that you were going to be given to someone you knew nothing about?”

“That wasn’t a primary fear in the moment. You were an abstract thought at the time.”

He opened the door for her and after she stepped in he followed, setting the basket down. She started to pull her scarf and cloak off. “What do you mean?”

“You weren’t a reality. I had a name and a title. Imagination can create anything with such minimal information, but it is abstract. The reality was that I had to ride on a horse by myself in clear view of the people that were ruled by the family I was to be married into.” She hanged her items and took the basket over and set it on the table. “Nerves took over because I was on a damn horse by myself.”

He laughed. He remembered well how clumsy she was around horses. “Yes. We made certain that you weren’t left on your own with them…”

“I was grateful for that.” She chuckled as she pulled a bottle of wine from the basket. She set it on the table as he walked up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, looking over her shoulder to see what else was in there. There was another bottle of wine with a couple of loaves of freshly baked bread along with some cheese. She pulled the second bottle of wine out and set it on the table before wrapping the bread back up. She leaned back on him, resting her hands on his arms. She took a breath and frowned. “I should change the bandage on your arm.”

He groaned and squeezed her as he kissed the top of her head. “Very well.” He slowly released her and watched her slip away, heading to the bedroom. He retrieved a couple of glasses and sat by the table. She returned to the room as he was opening one of the bottles. “Wine?” He asked. 

“No, but thank you.”

He blinked and looked at her. She sat across from him and raised her eyebrow. “No?”

“No. I don’t like it.” 

“You used to…” Her eyes darkened. “…what changed?”

“I don’t like having my thoughts clouded and my reflexes slowed.” 

“You do realize how odd of an answer that is…?” She blinked the darkness in her eyes away. She held her hand out for his arm. He let her have it and poured the wine for them both with his free hand. She unwrapped the bandage and set it aside. She rose and moved to put water over the fire. 

“Why is it odd?” She asked after she returned to her chair. 

“We are the only ones here…it wouldn’t matter if you aren’t thinking clearly or if your reflexes slow…” She blinked a few times, considering his words. “Do you believe you are in danger?”

She blinked again and shook her head. “No…”

“Then?” She shook her head again, closing her eyes. “Amy…”

She looked at him. “It…just makes me uncomfortable when I cannot think clearly. I don’t like having holes in my memory.” She shrugged closed her eyes again. 

“Do you believe there are holes in your memory?”

“I know there are.” She took a breath and looked at him. 

He considered asking her to explain but felt that if he did they would be back in an argument as before. He sipped his wine, considering what he would say next. Hoping she would speak first.

She did not. 

“The story you were telling the children…” She nodded. “…fantasy?”

“No. It was not. My father told me that story when I was little.”

“Didn’t seem like a story a father would tell…”

“My mother didn’t spend much time with me when I was little. When she did it didn’t revolve around anything entertaining. She didn’t have much of an imagination when it came to such things, I suppose.”

He had known she wasn't close to her mother, but at one time she had near worshipped the woman and spoke about her with reverence. Now she spoke about her as if she was a mere fixture in her life. "I believe that is the first time you have not shown your admiration of your mother while speaking about her."

“She was fair and she was kind.”

“But?”

“She is dead. She didn’t deserve to die the way she did.” He nodded. But he knew there was something more. He sipped his wine and watched her as she rose, taking a clean towel with her to drop in the near-boiling water. She rung it out and sat back down and started wiping down his arm around the wound. “She betrayed my father’s trust.” She spoke softly and kept her eyes trained on her task. 

“The affair with Jon’s father.”

“Yes. He was the first.” She took a long breath and set the wet towel aside. “Whether or not she had any affairs after Jon and my birth wasn’t known. It was speculated, but no proof arose.” 

“You just said that Jon’s father was the first.”

"Yes…" She paused, closing her eyes. He almost asked her to elaborate but decided against it. She opened her eyes again and looked past him, at what he had no idea. Likely she was staring into her thoughts. “…after it became apparent Jon wasn’t my father’s son my father moved her into her own chambers. He had minimal contact with her after that and certainly did not touch her.” She slowly blinked and moved her gaze on the glass of wine that he had poured for her.

“The infant you went back to see…?”

“Not my father’s son.” She said softly. She blinked her gaze away from the wine, moving it to his arm. 

“Yet he still hosted a feast…”

“He could not openly show that The Order was planning on executing a purge over the city. And, it was easier if a feast was held. All of the nobles would be in attendance.”

“Why were you called home? If your father was working with The Order, why did he ask you to come see a child that was not even his?”

She looked at him with a pained expression. “I don’t know.”

He blinked and took her hands in his. She closed her eyes. She remained silent for several moments before she opened her eyes again. “Did The Order execute your mother?” 

“They were going to but didn't have the chance. Others got to her first."

“Why were they going to execute her?”

"Many of the nobles were openly having affairs, a practice that The Order didn't care for. Unfortunately, when it became widely known that the queen not only had an affair but had a child from the relationship The Order decided to intervene. They wanted her and the child executed. My father didn't want that. He had loved my mother dearly and her betrayal hurt him deeply, but he didn't want her killed. He convinced them to offer a warning to the queen. In turn, she would retain her position and life. He also convinced them that executing a child was…callous. He was able to get them to stand down because he had entertained a long relationship with the Leader. The Order stood down but warned him that they would act if the queen blatantly degraded her position again. And if that came to pass, they would purge the nobility as well as the queen." She took a long breath and started wrapping his arm. “When it was known she was carrying another child, The Order made their plans.” She completed wrapping his arm and let her hands drop into her lap. For several long moments, she remained silent with her eyes downcast.

“Who got there first?” He asked softly. Something wasn’t making sense. She had stated a member or The Order had attacked her, but not the queen? What was she leaving out?

“I don’t know.”

“Amy…” She looked up at him, her eyes dark. “…how is it you do not know? You saw her attackers, didn’t you?” She nodded. “Who were they?”

“I can’t talk about this anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” She shook her head and closed her eyes. He reached out and traced her eyebrow. 

“Why?” He prompted softly.

“It doesn’t make sense.” She whispered. “What happened doesn’t make sense…” She opened her eyes and looked at him. “No more for now. I don’t want to talk about it anymore…”

He nodded and sat back for a moment. As before when she was leaning in the doorframe he saw her as he remembered her. Vulnerable was the word that struck him first. He didn’t like that she could be vulnerable, in his presence that wasn’t a concern. He worried for all the time she had not been in his presence. He found comfort in the fact that she could snap on a cool, emotionless façade. He sipped his wine. "I believe we were talking about the story you were telling the children."

She smiled a little. “Yes, my father told me that story. It was a favorite story of his from the time his father was still alive. He was very close friends with a farmer’s daughter and he would bring her to court to keep him company. She was his best friend. He had several anecdotes from his adventures with her.”

“What happened to her?”

“She married before my father did. She had children…” She finally reached out and sipped her wine.

He blinked. “I had figured she would have fallen in love with your father.”

“No, neither claimed to carry feelings such as that for each other. They regarded each other as siblings. They each named one of their children for the other.”

He nodded, sipping his wine. “So, she has a son named Edmund and you weren’t named for a flower?”

“Her second son was named after my father. As her eldest was named for his father. And yes, she was who I was named for, though it seems more romantic to say I was named for a flower.”

He chuckled. “It has more meaning, that you were named for someone rather than something.” She looked at him curiously. “I am assuming you knew her?”

“Yes, I knew her well. I would go stay with her and her family. Dad thought it would be good for me to be away from court and around children who didn’t pay much heed to my title. Her kids were older than I was, but they were fun.” He rose and took up his wine and held a hand out to her. She took his hand. He moved to the large chair and sat down, pulling her down with him. She had brought her wine and set it down before settling on his lap and resting her head on his shoulder. 

“Perhaps your father wanted you to be around girls near your age…”

“All of her children were boys.”

He wrapped an arm around her. “All boys. Interesting you would be sent there after all.” She chuckled a little. 

“She told me once that she didn’t mind that she didn’t have a daughter. She did wish that she had more children though.”

He kissed her hair. “What about you?”

“What of me?” She sipped her wine and returned the glass to the table.

“How many children do you want? Would you prefer boys or girls?”

“Me?” She blinked a couple of times. “I haven’t considered having children since…” She took a long breath. “…for a long time.”

He squeezed her. “You can think of it again, can’t you?”

She smiled and closed her eyes. “I don’t think I ever considered a number. Or even boy or girl. I just…wanted to have children. I will be happy with however many or few we have, boy or girl.”

He smiled and sipped his wine. He would keep his questions to himself. She was relaxed and happy. He didn’t want to ruin the mood by asking her what The Order would do in the event she had a child.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.  
> Time to take a quick look into that explicit rating.

He was given a ridiculous amount of money to deliver the letter and the small satchel. He had considered opening it and seeing what was inside, but he merely wasn’t curious enough. The man paying him had saved his life and been the first to believe he was more than what he came from. 

The man paying him had shown him trust. It was a strange feeling for him to have. The delivery of the letter wasn't the only task he was being paid for. He had been paid for an extensive task, but for now, he would focus on delivering the letter and the satchel.

He had spent the first couple days wandering around The City. She was in the Ivory Tower. He couldn’t get a meeting with her. He couldn’t just ask for her. He was told that she would leave the tower every morning before dawn to find her breakfast and talk with the people. 

He had seen her. She indeed did leave and with a healthy guard. She was buried in the colors of the order so he never did get a clean look at her. She was small. He could see that. She didn't necessarily follow the same pattern every morning, but there were a couple of people that she made sure to talk to before returning to the Ivory Tower.

He would deliver the letter this morning since he had been accepted into training to work for The Order as a fringe member. She was talking with the baker's wife. He approached, her guards immediately focused on him. He stopped by her and looked down at her. His breath caught she looked up at him and offered a smile. She was simply beautiful. “Hello, there.”

She nodded. “Hello.”

Her guards moved closer, he sighed as he looked at them and moved away from her, brushing past her. One of the men grabbed him as soon as his body made contact with hers. He was wordlessly dragged away from her. She watched with large purple eyes. He winked at her before he was roughly shoved away. She blinked and turned her gaze down.

\--

She was delivered to her chambers after the strange meeting with the slim man. Most likely the entire ordeal was being reported to the Leader. She pulled her scarf off and hanged it before moving to take her coat off and hang it. Something was in the pocket. She reached in and grasped the objects. One was a letter, the other was a small velvet satchel. She took a breath when she saw a four-pointed star in the wax.

Jon.

He was still alive.

She broke the seal and read the brief missive and shook her head in disbelief. 

“My Dearest Little Sister,   
There are many things that I wish to tell you, yet I fear this isn't the time or the medium. Please accept my apology for being absent for so long. The day will come when it will all come to clear when the dust will settle.  
I find myself in a position of relaying the tragic news to you. Believe me, kitsune, having to send you this news puts a weight on my heart that may never leave. I had the fortune of coming across men that used to be palace guards in Erebor. They had a horrific tale to tell. I will spare you the details and directly break the news that you wish for. I am afraid your betrothed was killed. His entire family was killed when Erebor fell.   
Please forgive me for not only having to relay this information but for not being there for you while you accept the reality of what these words have conveyed.  
I miss you dearly, little sister and I love you with all my heart.   
Jon”

She collapsed into a heap on the floor and cried herself to exhaustion.

\--

The red head was sound asleep. He left her in the bed and dressed to make his way down to the bar. The young man was sitting at the bar pouting. He sat next to the kid and tapped the bar. The kid looked at him. "So…" He started as a beer was put in front of him. "…how about you tell me what happened to the owner of that sword?” The kid scowled and shook his head.

“I don’t have to tell you shit man…”

He took a long drink of his beer. “No. You don’t.” He set his mug down. “I can beat it out of you.” The kid blinked several times and looked in the direction of the door. He tapped the bar in front of the kid and set several coins on it. The kid silently watched as the bar keep left a pint of beer in front of him as he swiped up the coins. “Have a drink and tell me about it.”

He took a shaky breath and swigged at the beer. “So…couple months ago a lady walked into the town I live in. No one knew her or anything about her. She kept to herself and came to see my Dad, Dad owns the big general store that orders for all the neighboring towns. She bought a few things from him and traded that sword for a few more items.” He shrugged and took another drink. 

“So you gambled your father’s sword away?”

“No, he gave it to me.” He pouted.

“Where is this town?”

The kid nodded to the east. “Couple days that way.”

He nodded and sipped his beer. “Tell me about the lady.”

The kid shrugged. “She stayed the night and was gone before dawn.”

“What did she look like?” He knew it was her, but, he had to make certain.

“Little woman, wearing black leather. Purple eyes, white hair. Kind of like a small elf.”

He nodded again and set a few more coins on the bar. “Thanks.” He slid from his stool and made his way to the stairs. His red-head had napped long enough.

\--

They sat in silence for several moments. She remained relaxed, her head resting on his shoulder. “Amy?”

"Hmm?" She murmured. He smiled. She was nodding off. He kissed her hair as he set his wine down. He rose, lifting her as he did so. She wrapped her arms around his neck. And for a brief moment, he felt as if he were home with her again. He carried her to bed and laid down with her. She curled up against him as she lightly slept.

\--

The two men were considering leaving. The assassin seemed to do little more than wandering from town to town, drinking and whoring. They had made it into the establishment the previous evening in time to see him walk upstairs with yet another whore.

They had almost turned and left. Then they saw what he was carrying. It was unusual and they were told to look for it. They decided to stay for awhile which made them available to hear the conversation that was had with the young man. 

After conferring for a moment, it was decided that they would split up and search the nearby towns. She couldn’t have gotten too far if she was on foot. Even less so if she had been injured in the escape.   
They had been given permission to take out the assassin and the longer they followed him, the more they wanted to. Before they did that, they would make certain that she was in hand. Of course, they wanted to make sure they found her first. So the assassin retained his life, in the event they needed him to find her. 

\--

She was comfortable. Warm. There was a weight on her hip, she didn’t care. She inhaled. His scent turned her on instantly. She moved closer to him. The weight on her hip shifted, wrapping around her back to pull her in close. She hooked a leg over his and frowned a little. Were they dressed? In bed? She made a noise and let her fingertips trail over him to hook in the waist of his trousers and give them a little tug. Maybe he’d get the hint. He moved. She slipped her leg back into place and was happy to be greeted by warm skin. Lips softly touched hers and she smiled. It had been a long time since she had a pleasant dream. She slipped her hand into his hair to pull him down to her as she returned his kiss. She heard a growl from him and was pushed on to her back. She felt his hands trail over her and work her clothing open and off her arms. She tugged his tunic off and when he returned he was at her neck. She let a breath out at the attention and dragged her fingernails over his back. He gently bit her neck for the teasing, making her smile and bury her hands in his hair. He made his way down her body, nipping and kissing, pausing long enough to draw a breast into his mouth and make her gasp. He groaned against her as she drew her legs up to his sides and hooked one around his back. A hand gripped her leg as his mouth traveled to the other breast, this time drawing a hiss out of her. She dragged fingernails over his shoulders, trying to convey that she desired some urgency on his part. She could have sworn she felt him smile as he kissed his way over her flat stomach. She let a soft moan out when she felt his tongue slide into her. Her hands gripped the blankets beneath her as it made its way up to her soft center of nerves. She saw stars when he drew it into his mouth. She was barely remembering to breathe when she felt him slip a couple of fingers into her. Her hips rose to meet them and he was more than willing to move with her. The stars behind her eyes spun out of control and she felt heat flooding over her as she gasped for breath. His lips languidly explored her thighs while she brought her breathing down a little, yet, he didn’t let her calm down completely. As soon as she believed she would drift away into a deep rest she felt his tongue again, instantly setting off her nerves. She let a moan out as she felt his tongue slide into her and move, curling against the inside of her. She moved against him the heat building inside of her again. She was almost there, ready to cry out again when it stopped. She let out a noise of frustration and opened her eyes. He was over her, his eyes locked onto hers as he kissed her. She slipped her hand into his hair as she held him in place. She could feel him, he was there, she didn't know what he was waiting for. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders and she moaned into his kiss when he finally glided into her. She broke the kiss to gasp, there was so much of him to deal with, above and inside of her. She closed her eyes and relished his heat. Slowly he began to move, pulling one of her legs around him. She moved with him, her hands on his shoulders. She opened her eyes and watched him, he was magnificent. She traced her fingernails over his neck as he looked down at her. He watched her as they moved together. She smiled and wrapped her other leg around him as he lowered himself to kiss her. It was brief, their ragged breathing didn't allow much more as she felt him push into her, faster and harder each time. She didn't realize that she had begun moaning until she had cried out as she felt herself spasm around him. He slowed but did not stop. Once he brought the speed down he brought her up and moved so she was on his lap. She felt sticky from his release, but that didn't matter. For a few moments she rested against him with her head on his shoulder and her arms loosely draped around him. His arms were wrapped around her. She was almost certain he was winding down to doze. She smiled and shifted her hips. He groaned into her neck, making her smile even more. She shifted again and was rewarded with the feeling of him coming back to life within her. He growled into her neck and wrapped his hands around her waist and guided her movements. She rocked her hips against his. She let him set the pace, to an extent. She kept herself at, what she was certain he considered, a languid pace. She enjoyed feeling his frustration at her not giving in to him. She smiled and lightly laughed when he gently bit at her neck. She was certain that she would eventually pay for this teasing session, but for now, everything was pure heaven. Heaven that left her crying out his name once he decided to put her on her back and claim her without any restraint. 

It took them several moments to catch their breath. Once they had their breathing under control he slowly moved off her and laid on his back next to her. He slipped an arm under her and curled her to him. She settled her head on his chest as he worked the blankets over them both. She closed her eyes and listened to his heart beat. She was comfortable and she was completely spent. 

\--

He watched his partner ride out of the town. Was there logic in randomly searching for her? Clearly, the kid could be questioned further.  
He would wait and catch the kid in the stable.

He was correct in his assessment that the boy would run as soon as he finished his free beer. The kid eyed him warily when it was noted that he stood between the boy and his horse.

He was not as pretty as the assassin was. He was certain the boy wasn’t about to even attempt to talk back to him. Of course, he wouldn’t hesitate to knock the kid around if he wanted answers. 

The boy stopped and rocked on his heels. “That’s…my horse…” 

“Tell me about the towns in this area.”

“Uh…whatcha lookin’ for?”

“A nice, quiet place to live…you know, where no one will bug me.”

The boy blinked several times, having no idea what to do with the information given to him. He wanted to chuckle, but he would never do so in front of this kid. “Uh…” He blinked a couple more times and licked his lips. “Yeah…sure…there’s a town down in the valley. It’s a pain to get in and out of after snow flies, but it’s pretty big. Lots of people there, compared to this place.” He shrugged.

He nodded to the boy and walked away. Down in a valley. Controlled entrance and exits. A place where one can see who is entering and leaving if one so chooses. Big enough to possibly hide in. That is where she was. Hiding and watching.

\--

She turned on her side and stretched her legs. When a warm arm slipped around her stomach and pulled her against an equally warm, and excited male body, she was certain she was still dreaming. She smiled. She wiggled herself close and was rewarded with soft lips brushing the back of her neck. She leaned her head forward, allowing him more access to her neck and shoulders. Her hand found his hair as he continued. So easily he could excite her, just his scent turned her on. She groaned, she was ready. She knew he was ready; she could feel it. She felt him move, pushing himself up on his knees, his free hand planting into the mattress. He pulled her with him, her body never losing contact with his as his other arm was wrapped around her, pulling her to her knees. He settled himself between her knees, forcing her forward as he entered her. She pulled in a sharp breath, the sensation making her weak. His arm remained wrapped around her waist, holding her up as he pulled back and quickly pushed himself back into her. She let out a low moan as her head dropped and her eyes closed. He leaned over her, she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck as he pushed into her, harder every time. She braced herself, her hands forming fists around the sheets as she absorbed him and his increasing rhythm. He held her in place, the sensation of him pushing in and filling her to the point of her gasping and moaning. She cried out and only a moment later she felt him finish. His forehead rested on the back of her shoulder as he slowed his pace, completing his release. 

She didn’t remember a time when she had been more relaxed. He pulled away from her and laid down before bringing her close to curl up against him and drift off again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

He had spoken only once since he was given the broken necklace. The Messenger was vivid in the portrait that he painted. She had been brutally murdered when the palace of Haxen was taken. Her body was found with the queen’s body. 

He had ordered her chambers sealed. An order that his father and grandfather had agreed to. No one would ever walk into her rooms again and nothing would be taken from them.

He had given the gem over to the jewelers and they had placed it in her delicate crown. The delicate crown was now resting on an ornate pillow in a case above his bed.

He should have never let her leave. 

Of course, that thought faded after the attack that sent them from their home. He had mixed feelings concerning that. There were variables that would play out in his mind. What if she had stayed and been killed in the attack? What if he had not been able to save her from that?

What if she had stayed and they both survived? Would they have a family somewhere? Perhaps having stayed close to his sister? He had favored that outcome. He had wanted children and he couldn’t imagine anyone else in the world to be their mother. 

\--

He walked into her chambers and was immediately alarmed. He rushed to her, shouting her name. She jumped and looked at him. He sighed. “What is the meaning of this? Why are you on the floor?” She blinked a couple of times and he could see that she had been crying. She had a letter in her hand. He reached for it, swiping it from her grasp. He noted she was holding another item. He held his hand out for it. She sighed and dropped a velvet pouch onto his palm. He tucked the items away and lifted her to her feet. “Sit, you haven’t taken your breakfast.” She slowly blinked, nodded and sat down and started to pick at her food. He opened the letter and scowled. Eru curse him, it was from Jon. He wanted to know how in the hell Jon got a letter to her. He read it and blinked a few times. 

On the other hand…Eru might be on his side. Erebor was gone. She had no dreams left to live for. She belonged to him, The Order, now. He sighed and looked at her. She was picking at her food. He knew she was heartbroken, she did truly love him. He set the letter on the table. “I will give you until lunch time.” She looked up at him. “I will come for you then.” She nodded and turned her gaze back to pushing her food around.

There was a ring in the velvet pouch. Clearly, it had belonged to him. He would let her have it. It would be a physical reminder of him. It guaranteed that she would compare all others to him. None would ever live up to him. He was dead and her mind would erase anything negative she may have encountered while with him. Her memory of him would turn him to perfection. 

He would use this to his favor, making certain that she remained unattached. This also bode him well because it was Jon that delivered this news. This was exactly what he needed to ensure that she would remain loyal to him and stay away from her ‘brother.’

\---

He opened his eyes and found her gone, yet again. He would take her to bed at night and after wearing each other out they would sleep, sometimes to wake and start over during the night and then fall back to sleep again. She would find a way to slip out of bed before him in the morning. He was awake earlier than he had been the past several days. The sun had yet to be in the sky. He took a breath and stood to pull his clothes on. She likely slipped out to find breakfast. He needed to get out and work more, she was going to get him fat. That was the problem with being a Smith during the winter. Not much work. 

It had taken a couple of weeks for her to completely relax and fall back into her old self with him. Her old self, meaning that she was talkative and would tell him stories about what she had been doing while they had been separated. She, however, did not discuss the pertinent topics, such as oh, everything going on politically in her home. Or what the hell happened the night that her parents were killed. She didn't even talk about Logan or Jon. Logan, he dismissed. She didn't talk about the twins much when they were in Erebor, but she would talk for hours about Jon. 

He made his way from the bedroom and found a bag by the door he didn’t recognize. She had mentioned that she wanted to retrieve the rest of her belongings from Sadie and Carl’s house. Perhaps she had done that. He smiled a little. Done so very early to avoid having a long conversation with Sadie, no doubt. 

He started the coffee and considered the things he needed to ask her. They had to get it out of the way. It was a necessity. 

She returned and put herself to making breakfast. He watched her in silence for a few moments before approaching her from behind and wrapping his arms around her waist and bending to kiss her neck. She smiled and tilted her head for him. The moment his lips left her neck she slipped from his grasp and moved out of his reach. He raised an eyebrow and watched her move around carefully remaining out of his reach. He waited for a few moments before stepping into her path, forcing her to look up at him. She smiled up at him and rested her hands on his chest. He smiled down at her and tucked her hair behind her ear, letting his fingertips trail down the back of her neck. She stifled a chuckle and moved away from his touch. He blinked in surprise. She slipped away from him again. He turned and reached out, managing to get his arm around her and bring her back to him. “What was that…?”

“Hmmm?” She responded laying her head back to look up at him. 

He smiled down at her and bent to sweep her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck and looked at him with glittering eyes. “You are ticklish…”

“I cannot imagine that I would be.”

It was downhill from there. Breakfast had been postponed so he could find each and every place on her body that was ticklish. This of course evolved into them ending up in bed for the rest of the morning. 

After a time, they came to rest. He was on his back, she was laying on him, her head on his chest. He traced his fingertips over her back, careful to miss any ticklish points. 

“When did you see Jon last?” He asked her softly. She body tensed, but she didn’t move. 

“I saw him last on the day I left to be given to you.” She answered softly. 

He frowned. “It has been so long? I thought he delivered the news of what happened to Erebor?”

“He sent a messenger with a letter.”

“Why haven’t you seen him?” Silence. Tension. He squeezed her closer to him. “Amy…”

“He is an enemy of The Order.” Her tone was flat. He frowned. 

“Why?”

“The Order has determined that his actions on the night of the purge were inexcusable and he is to be killed on sight.” He blinked. Her answer was rehearsed, flat. 

“What did he do?”

“We do not question the determinations of The Order.” 

What the hell? He sat up, bringing her with him, forcing her to look at him. “What is this?” She blinked, looking at him. For a moment confusion crossed her features. “He’s your brother…how does he go from being your best friend to your enemy and you do not question it?” 

“Why would I question them?”

“What has Jon done?” She blinked several times. Confusion clouded her features and she looked past him for several moments. “Why have you not questioned Logan about this?” He asked softly. 

“We do not question Logan.” Her eyes snapped back to him, her features cleared of confusion. “No one questions Logan. He is The Leader.”

“You are his sister. His Queen.” She blinked again and looked at him curiously as if she had no idea what he just said to her. He traced her eyebrow. “Is it because Jon is a bastard?”

She blinked and shook her head. “No. My father legitimized him and gave him a lordship and his own lands.”

“Then why has The Order condemned him to death?”

“Logan told me…” She took a long breath and closed her eyes. “…after Jon got the letter to me…Logan told me that Jon was behind the alternate raid on the palace. Jon has been at open war with The Order for the last couple of years.”

“After the letter?”

“Yes. I had been living in the tower for some time before Jon was able to get the letter to me.”

"Logan hadn't mentioned anything about the attack on the palace before that?" She blinked again but remained silent for many long moments. "Amy?"

She blinked and looked at him and shook her head. “No. Logan did not discuss the details of what happened in the palace that I recall.” Her gaze moved past him again. She was tense. He touched her cheek softly, her eyes snapped back to his. He leaned to kiss her. She returned his lingering kiss, letting her eyes close as he pulled her against him. He spent a few moments holding her close to him, stroking her hair and back. Slowly she relaxed. 

“How was the letter delivered?” 

She stirred a little against him but remained relaxed. "A man ran into me one morning while I was speaking with the baker. The guards dragged him away and it wasn’t until I was back in the tower that I realized he had put the letter and the ring in my pocket.” She took a breath. “Logan let me keep the letter and put the ring on a gold chain for me. A few days later the messenger showed up in one of my classes.”

“One of your classes?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. I taught several different classes for The Order.”

“And what did you teach this messenger? Does he have a name?”

“Archery and yes, he has a name.”

He blinked and moved away from her to look at her. “You taught archery?” 

She looked at him and nodded. “After a point, yes. He was already a skilled archer, so he ended up with me.” He raised his eyebrows.

“What does that mean?”

“Shooting something while standing on the ground is fairly easy, even if it moving. So. I taught people to shoot immobile and mobile targets while on horseback.” 

He was in shock and considered laughing. Her…teaching a course…on horseback? But she had mentioned that she had been chased down and shot because her horse was tired. He had not found a wound that matched that story. “Wait…” She blinked, watching him. “Your escape, you said you were shot.”

“Yes.”

“I have not found any evidence of such a wound…”

“It hit my armor.”

He shook his head. He was certainly dreaming. “Okay…so who was this messenger? The one Jon sent to deliver the letter…?”

“Daven.”

He scowled. No. He wasn’t dreaming. He certainly heard that. “You taught…him…archery on horseback?”

“Yes. It is a weak point with him. The Order moved him through the ranks quickly as he was already known.”

“Explain.” He was keeping the annoyance and anger out of his voice.

“Daven is a known assassin. The Order welcomed his loyalty and Logan made it a point to have him travel with me on the errands I was sent on.”

He ground his teeth. “Is Logan aware of the extent of your relationship with him?”

“Calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“You are angry. If you want to question me you have to realize that the more you get angry over my answers, the less I will answer.” 

He blinked and took a long breath. With a small modicum of calmness, that he painstakingly forced into his voice he spoke again. “Answer me.”

“I am certain that Logan is aware. That being said, Logan will not say anything unless there comes to be physical evidence of said relationship.”

It became a monumental task to remain calm and collected. “So, as long as you didn’t carry the…assassins…child…Logan didn’t care?”

“Correct.”

“And what would have happened if that came to pass?”

“I do not know.”

“How do you not know the consequences?” 

“Talk about something else.”

“Why?”

“I don’t want to talk about Logan or Daven anymore.”

He almost asked. It almost made it past his teeth. But he stopped any questions that sprang to mind. He would play this game for a bit. For the most part, she was answering him. He looked at her again. His ring was resting against her chest, on the gold chain. He reached for it, looking at it. “Do you always wear this?” He asked not looking away from the ring.

“Yes.” He smiled. “It was, until recently, all I had left of you as the letter is all I have left of Jon.”

He blinked. “The letter?”

“Yes. I have the letter Jon sent to me with the ring.”

\--

He was freezing. He had managed to catch the short one and leave him to the wolves. But the ugly one had eluded him. He was surprised. Maybe working for The Order had dulled his talents. He had an inkling where she was hiding, but he wasn’t about to lead the morons to her. He had, after all, made a promise concerning her. 

When he did finally find Ugly he was aggravated that Ugly had managed to get into the good graces of the team that was delivering supplies to the town. That certainly could cause problems. Ugly could waltz into the town, take her captive and vanish.

So he was hiding in the shadows freezing his ass off waiting for any sign of her. Her hiding place would be blown, but at least with that, he could talk her into leaving with him. It was high time that they made their way to safety. 

Before dawn, he finally saw her. She slipped out of a cottage and made her way to the baker. He regarded the cottage. He could easily make his way to it and slip in to wait for her. His instincts told him not to, perhaps she had a roommate. He would wait and see.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

He had identified the assassin immediately. He would let the assassin deal with his own tails. He would stay with the supplies until they had made it into town. It would be then he would watch the assassin and decide if it was time to deal with him. Maybe he would bring the Assassin back as well. He would need to assess the entire situation to determine what was best for all involved.

\--

The Order had told him the day it would happen. He had known for years that it was coming, the truce they had was strained and that was before his son took over leadership. Logan had a very strong opinion on his mother and it wasn’t a positive one. He had hoped that she wouldn’t step out of line so blatantly as to spur them into motion sooner. But she did. He shook his head at the irony. They had chosen her. Not him. She was the reason this was going to happen. Not him. It had forced him to make two alliances that he never wanted to even entertain. It terrified him to the very core that this would be the mistake he made that would end his daughters’ life. 

He spent days on the manuscript. Everything he wished he could tell Amaryllis was on those pages. He sent it away with his trusted guard. He had to trust that the parcel would reach its destination.  
The entire situation had taken a horrible turn. He feared the absolute worst when Amaryllis’s arrival was announced. It physically pained him that she would be there to bear witness the power of The Order. He knew Logan had invited her back, likely making it seem that it was him, that he had requested the presence of his daughter. He would not tell her why her brothers were not going to be a part of the festivities. She did not need to know that Logan and Jon were a breath away from war. He knew that if…not if…when. When it came to war Logan would protect Amaryllis. She would assume he did so for his love of his little sister. He only hoped that she never learned that Logan had no love for his family. He didn’t want her to have to learn that Logan would use and manipulate her to gain not only the crown from her but lands and subsequent items that came with it. 

Before she arrived, he handed a key to the man who had betrayed him in the most intimate of matters. The man whose life had been spared by his silence. He had lied to The Order and told them he did not know who fathered Jon. Now he trusted that man to keep this secret. The man had been surprised but assured him he would see his wish through. 

Edmund nodded to him and walked out to greet his daughter. He knew that he would die before the feast was over. No matter what Logan promised him. 

\---

They had decided to move closer to his sister. The weather wasn’t the best for traveling, but it was only going to get worse. They prepared for the trip and she had spent the last couple hours saying goodbye to those she considered friends.

He opted to wait for her in the cottage. She didn’t say anything upon her return. She went into the bedroom and after a few moments walked out, stuffing her gown into a bag. He looked her over and blinked. She was wearing fitted black leather. A black leather shirt was barely overlaying the waistline of pants that were tucked into boots that almost reached her knees. “No.” She looked at him. She slowly blinked and produced a pair of gloves and tugged them on her hands. “Amy…”

“I heard you.” She reached to pull her scarf down and started wrapping around her.

“You aren’t listening. I said no.”

"I am not going to travel a long distance in a gown. My riding clothes are much more functional." She pulled her cloak down and swung it over her shoulders.

He groaned and moved to her. She looked up at him and smiled, she knew he couldn’t argue that point. He rolled his eyes and kissed her before ushering her to the stables.

She chuckled when he motioned for her to get on the horse before him. She was about to argue but opted not to since she realized he was still irritated at her form fitting clothing. And, she liked the idea of being close to him.

\--

As they entered the town he watched the assassin. The assassin was watching the tail he had picked up. He looked around the small town and had to inwardly smile. It looked like a nice place for someone to build a life. He felt a small pang of guilt that he would have to take her away from it. 

It was a quick movement, but he caught it. The assassin had looked to a particular cottage. Bingo…that is where she lived. He would let the assassin and his tail deal with each other and he could take care of the survivor. He idly noted from the corner of his eye that they both were heading for the inn. He would go with the supplies and make certain they were delivered. 

\--

They had left a couple of days ago. She had humored him and rode with him out of the town, but eventually, she had moved to her own horse. They spent days talking about where they had been while in exile. She had done some extensive traveling across her kingdom. He had learned that she traveled under cover. She had never shown her people that she was still alive.

He had so many questions and she refused to answer many of them. He let it go. There was no need to start a fight while they were traveling. He had a better plan. He would merely wait until they were with his sister again. Yes, it would be two against one, but he knew for certain Dis would not let up until she got answers. Barring the slap, Amy seemed to still have a fairly mild temperament. Dis did not. He was certain that Amy wouldn’t be able to argue with or ignore Dis as she was able to do to him. 

They had made good time in the couple of days that they had been on the road. Neither one of them slept much which facilitated them making better headway. He was happy for that. It wouldn’t take them very long to get back after all. 

\--

He sat by the window and watched the assassin head to the cottage. He knocked. Waited. Knocked again and then walked in. He watched him walk back and seat himself by the bar. The barkeep approached him. “Cottage over there is empty. Is it available?” He wondered at how bright this man was. He was advertising that she was gone. 

The bar keep nodded. “Yep, the Smith and his wife left town. Headed out to be close to his family I guess." They had both blinked in surprise. Wife? A Smith's wife. His Queen married to a smith? Nope. Wrong woman. He would wander the town later and locate her. There was the possibility that she would show up in the bar. He barely listened to the rest of the conversation. 

When the next morning arrived and he didn't see the assassin or the Assassins tail he took that as his chance to wander the town. First thing was to check on his horse. He found that two of the horses were missing. The stable boys were nice enough to tell him that the tall slim one rode out before dawn and was followed by the ugly one. He considered it for a moment and decided that it was time to take care of them. He assumed that by the time he located them one would be dead and if his luck held the other would be wounded, making his task simple.

He was absolutely surprised when he came across the barely hidden body of the assassin. The man had been severely beaten, it had not been an easy death. He couldn’t ascertain if the tail had taken an injury, but the tail had taken the assassin's horse. He took a long breath and followed the tracks. He needed to take care of this man and get back on track with finding her.

\--

They had gotten a late start and she wasn’t quite awake or focused. She had another nightmare the evening before and it had greatly affected her. She was tired and withdrawn. He kept the pace slow and waited for her to come around and start a conversation. 

The sun was high in the sky when she straightened up. He frowned. Something had alarmed her. She stopped her horse and turned its head, looking around. “What’s wrong.” He asked softly.

“We are being watched…” She said softly. She lightly spurred her horse to move it away from his, her eyes scanning around them. 

She took a breath and moved to jump down from her horse. A shout echoed out as she swung her leg from the animal. “Archer!” Her head snapped in the direction of the voice. He leaped from the saddle in time dodge the arrow that found its home in her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

There wasn’t any light where she was and the voices were muddled. At least she assumed it had been the sound of voices. She heard…noises. She floated between the fires of hell and the freeze of the tundra. Is this death?

This couldn't be death; she could still feel. She could feel temperature. She knew. She was aware that there was an absence of light. So, where was the light? And how could she get to it?

Then she saw him.

She had run from him. He had caught her, tackled her. The horrific memory played over and over in her head until finally, something changed.

She could SEE him. 

And she knew who he was.

She knew where he was.

She snapped her eyes open and took a deep breath. She frowned and tried to sit up. Where was she? Her head spun and her hands trembled. It took a few moments before her head cleared enough for her to look around. She wasn’t restrained. No guards visible. She was dressed in a long cotton gown. She was in a warm room and had been resting in a comfortable bed. 

She heard movement from the next room. She swung her legs off the bed and her head spun as her eyes darkened. She closed her eyes, holding her head in her trembling hands. How long had she been sleeping? She blinked a few times and pushed herself to her feet. Searing pain shot through her leg forcing her to hiss before she sat back down. Grinding her teeth to the pain she pulled the long skirt up to reveal a heavy bandage on her thigh.

She blinked. Well, that explained a few things. She sighed and began working it open. “What are you doing?!” The shout startled her, making her leap to her feet and turn. She blinked, moved her unbound her from her face then winced. Well, if she had stitches they were certainly torn now. She groaned and closed her eyes against her head that began swimming again and welled up a new feeling. Nausea.

“I missed you too, Dis.” She managed to get out while fighting the urge to be sick. 

The dark-haired woman smiled at her and walked over to her for a long hug. “Yes...yes. I know you did.” She said softly, making her chuckle. “Get back in bed.”

Once Dis released her she returned to the bed and sat down. “How long have I been sleeping?”

“You have been here sleeping for 3 days. I am not certain how long it took him to get you here.” She closed her eyes and listened to the woman move about the room. 

“Where is he?”

“Lay down. You’ve been ill.” She opened her eyes and looked up at the woman. There was a look about the woman that told her this wasn’t the best time to argue. She slowly blinked and laid back down, closing her eyes. “Out with the boys.” She felt the bandage on her leg being cut off. “I have been inventing as many tasks as I could to keep those three out of here. They hover around you and wring their hands like a bunch of old women.” She chuckled. “I am amazed you could breathe with how they smother you.” 

“The boys…they are adults now. It seems so strange that it has been so long.”

“They have the bodies of grown men, but they are still boys.” She chuckled. “My brother included.” She laughed, then winced as she felt a new bandage being secured tightly in place. She opened her eyes.

“You should eat something.”

“Not really hungry.” Dis raised an eyebrow and stood after covering her again. She shrugged and closed her eyes. She didn’t have the energy to argue with the woman. She heard Dis leave the room and after a moment return. She ate what she could and sipped the tea she was given. She did so mainly to prevent her from having the ability to answer questions. Once she had eaten she had fallen drowsy again. She suspected that her dear sister-in-law slipped something into her tea.

She woke again to voices coming from the other room. She moved to sit up again. And again, her head spun, though it seemed that her hands did not tremble as much. She remained still with her eyes closed. She needed to get up and move. She had been idle for so long it was making her sore. She heard the door close but didn't bother to open her eyes, the spinning hadn't stopped. "How are you feeling?" He asked her softly before he sat next to her and wrapped his arms around her.

“I will be fine.”

He kissed her temple. “I am certain you will be. How are you feeling right now?”

“Like I have been sleeping for 3 or more days.” He pulled her against him and laid down with her. She curled into him. 

“About 4 days. Could have been longer, but I had help getting you here.”

“Who helped you?”

“A man named Deacon. He’s staying nearby. He wishes to speak with you when you wake as he now realizes that he’s not taking you away from here.”

She chuckled a little and decided not to comment on the fact that she had no idea who Deacon was. “Were you hurt?”

“No. Do you not remember what happened?”

“No…” She yawned. He stroked her hair.

“Go back to sleep, Amy.”

“Whatever she is giving me to sleep has to stop…” She muttered before drifting back to sleep.

\--

She groaned. The voice in the darkness. How she hated that voice. It kept saying the same things. She thought it had gone away. 

It came back. And she hated it even more than she had before.

"What you witnessed was horrific…" It always started out with that line. Always. Why did it have to remind her? "…fortunately your life was spared. You cannot fault him for what happened…he was seduced by the promise of riches. He had been lured away from our way of life." She groaned. "We have brought him back into the fold. We have removed the hold on him that Jon had. Do not forget that, Amaryllis. Jon is our enemy. What kind of man would have his men carry out such a horrific task of what happened to you and mother?" While the voice was familiar, she had troubles placing who it belonged to and it gnawed at her.

She took a sharp breath. Her heart was pounding. Her mother was screaming. She was screaming. The queen’s guard was dead. Killed by men who wore the four-pointed star of her brother Jon. She blinked. Something wasn’t right. If only the screaming would stop she could think. It was right there on the tip of her tongue. If only the screaming would stop. 

It finally stopped to be replaced with the thudding of her heartbeat. 

She recognized, no, she knew every man in the conflict.

Her eyes snapped open. The room was dim; the fire had burned low. Was it evening? She had no idea. It had been a long time since she had been confined to bed. She took in a long breath and slowly exhaled. He stirred next to her. She looked at him, he was still sleeping. She turned to her side and slid her arm over his stomach and moved her body up against his. He turned in his sleep and pulled her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest. “Did you have a nightmare?” He murmured. 

“It wasn’t a nightmare.” He bent and kissed her forehead before turning on to his back and bringing her with him. She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“Memory?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me?”

“No, not at this time…I need to think on it.” He stroked her hair. He was still sleepy; his breathing was slow. 

“Who is Deacon?”

“I have no idea. Did he perhaps mention his house name?” 

She was certain she heard him chuckle. “Varen.” She nodded against his chest. She knew that name. Lord Tamin Varen had been her father's most respected generals. He held a large keep that was backed against a cliff face. He stroked her hair. “If you are feeling well enough I can take you to see him in the morning.” She nodded against his chest again. He was sleepy and she didn’t want to keep him awake. He hugged her close. 

She woke to sunlight streaming over her face. She reached out but found that he had already left the bed. She slowly sat up and only suffered a brief moment of light headedness before nausea wafted over her and made her remain still as a statue for several moments. Once it passed she stiffly shoved herself to her feet, studiously ignoring the throbbing in her thigh and moved to get herself ready for the day. 

Once ready she took a breath and opened the door to step out. Her eyes immediately went to the sole person in the room, locking on him. His brown eyes lit up and he smiled widely. She slowly smiled. He was so different than she remembered. She held her hands out to him, as she had done so long ago. He walked to her and took her hands before pulling her into his arms for a hug. She laughed and returned his hug. “How are you Kili?” 

“Good! I am good! You are alive, you can imagine how weird it was to see you…” She pulled back from him and covered his mouth as she tried to stifle her laughing. He stopped talking but laughed as well before pulling her back into his arms and squeezing her again.

“Are you the only one here?”

He nodded, smiling. “Mom and Fili are checking on someone and Uncle is talking with the man that arrived with you two.”

“Where are they at?”

“I can take you.” She nodded and he released her so they could pull on their heavy cloaks, once her scarf and hood were in place she smiled at him. He opened the door for her and after closing the door behind him he held his arm out for her. She took it and fell into step with him. Her head spun a little and she knew this would wear her out but, she needed to move and get back to her normal self. 

“Tell me what you have been doing…” She made certain to get the first word in. She wasn’t interested in answering questions just yet. She knew as a certainty that Dis would lean on her for answers and not let up until she got what she wanted, so she would just keep him locked in a conversation about him. And it worked. He chattered on about what he had been doing for the last couple of years, though she did note that he avoided speaking of Erebor or his father.

He held the door to the tavern for her to step through. She found them immediately and walked in step with Kili to them. She regarded the man, working to catch her breath. He was soft looking and tall. He had red hair and was very fair. He stopped talking and watched her approach. Once she was close he rose and stepped in her direction. He immediately found himself standing face to face with her husband.

She watched as he put his hands up and stepped back. “Apologies…” He focused on her. She moved up to stand next to Thorin, who wrapped a protective arm around her. “I doubt you remember me, I didn’t spend much time at court…”

“You are Tamin Varen’s son.” She said softly. He gave her a slight bow. 

“Yes…” He waved to the table they had been seated at.

She took a breath, stalling the wave of nausea that softly drifted over her. “No. I am not talking to you in here.”

"Lead on, My Lady…" He said melodically. She didn't move, in fact, it took him a moment before he realized that she wasn't about to walk with him behind her. He nodded and stepped around them and walked to the door. She took Thorin's arm and walked him, Kili walking on the other side of her. 

When they were well away from prying ears, his melodic voice carried back to her. “My apologies for our initial meeting, Your Majesty. I had hoped to catch him before he caught up to you. The reality of it was, I wasn’t sure they were following you. No one knew you were wed.” He shrugged, not caring that he might not make much sense to her. “At any rate the man that found you before I did manage to dispatch the assassin. I have not sent word back to The Order on that one since I am not overly certain if they would care…" He paused and looked around. Then he turned and looked at her. He smiled. "…My name is Deacon…" 

“What do you want.” Her voice was soft but left no question that she wasn't pleased with him. While she was certain her posture didn’t show it, she was beginning to lean heavily on her husband. She was weary already. She suspected that she may have been poisoned. 

“My father has sent me to bring you back to his keep. The winter months have brought the war to a crawl and he feels that it is time you come back for he feels that with your help he can end the war.”

“How does he know I am alive. This is information that isn’t available to the Haxen public and few in The City are aware of it.”

“You were the crowned heir. You had to survive the attack on the palace.” He shrugged, indicating that it was obvious why she survived.

“With my help, he can end the war…at what price?” She had many more questions but she had to keep this brief she was rapidly growing tired. 

He nodded, she didn't mince words. "He has no desire for the crown if that is what you are asking."

“Maybe he wants his son to have the crown.”

Her eyebrows raised when he laughed. “Me? I’d be a horrible King. My father well knows it.” She sighed and he quickly stopped laughing. “Wait wait…King Edmund spoke with my father before he was killed…my father made a promise to the king concerning you.” He paused, looking at her. “Your Majesty…The King knew he was going to die.”

She took a long breath and watched him from under her hood. She wanted to strangle him, but she was too damn tired. “Please, let me know if I am understating this correctly. A man who at one time was the most respected general of my father’s army, sent his…son…to deliver a message to me to return to his secluded keep that is against a cliff face?” She paused and let him consider that. “Not only that, I am to believe that you…” She gestured to him. “…you tracked the assassin? And what a stroke of luck, he’s now dead.”  
He nodded. “Yes. Seems a bit wild…I am certain…”

“Lord Varen at one time held a very high position in my father's court." Her soft voice cutting through to him like a razor. "Yet for all of the graces, he enjoyed while being held in such a high position of the King he was eventually sent away from the court. I assure you, your father was not a virtuous man. My father, however, was a forgiving one and that is the only reason that your father’s head was never put on a pike in the courtyard.” He blinked. “It was your father’s failure that cost Ryden his life. The King’s forgiveness spared your father’s life. His memory forced your father from the court.”

The red head smirked. “Virtuous?” He raised his eyebrows.

“You would do well to not audibly complete that thought.” He stiffly nodded. “We are done here.” 

He stiffly bowed. “Your Majesty. I will remain here at your service.”

She turned to walk away. She was upset that the red head had managed to upset her. She felt an arm wrap around her and walk back with her. She remained silent until she was ushered back into the cottage and she had dropped her cloak and scarf. 

She looked up at him. He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t like him.” She simply said and turned to walk away. He wrapped an arm around her to stop her. She groaned. “I am tired.”

“Not so tired that you cannot tell me what just happened.” He said simply. 

She could see Kili from the corner of her eye. He watching the exchange with partial confusion and partial amusement. This conversation had rapidly turned into a sticky and somewhat political exchange. On one hand, Deacon was her subject and she could treat him in any manner that she had wanted to…but, she did consider herself wed and they were not in her kingdom. They weren’t in his for that matter, but it was his people that ruled the lands they were in. So even if she didn’t defer to him as her husband or king, she was the foreigner in this area. There was also the propriety of the matter. His nephew was watching. Her breeding demanded that she didn’t undermine his authority as not only her husband but as her potential King. She hated politics. “Lord Varen’s miscalculation ended up with Ryden’s entire battalion being killed. I thought I had told you that story.”

“You did. King Edmund sent him away from the court for that?” 

She inwardly scowled. It wouldn’t do any good to scowl at him. She had to be a good girl and act according to the manners she had been raised with. She was certain he was taking advantage of that. “Officially. Yes.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Officially.”

“He was one…of many…that were romantically linked with someone other than their spouse.” 

“He had an affair with the Queen, your mother.” He said flatly. She scowled.

“There was no proof of that.” She noted that if they didn’t have Kili’s undivided attention before they certainly did now.

“Who was Jon’s father?”

“I don’t know.” He raised his eyebrows. “No. No one knew or knows for that matter.”

“How many of her assumed lovers were banished from the court by your father?” She scowled again. He smiled.

“I don’t know how many.” She finally said in a vain attempt to salvage the fact that he pointed out a glaring point that she had been overlooking for years. “This is a highly improper conversation to be having, for many reasons, the largest being that it is considered unacceptable to speak ill of the dead.”

He wanted to laugh. She could see it dancing in his eyes. But as she was constrained by her place in society, so was he. Most certainly if they had been alone the current conversation may have taken a nasty or even raunchy turn and he definitely would have laughed at her last statement. But they weren’t alone. They were the adults in the room. They were royalty. He nodded and she moved to retreat into the bedroom and again he blocked her retreat. “The assassin?”

“Apparently dead.” She shrugged, making it seem as if it was a matter that was easily dismissed. 

“So, just some random man that is called assassin?” She shrugged again, trying to get him off the subject. “Amy…”

“Thorin?” She looked up at him. He stared down at her. He wasn’t having it. But he would just have to ask.

“An assassin associated with The Order?” He prompted.

“Yes. The Order employed those of that skill set.” He slipped his arms around her waist, effectively towing her into place square in front of him. She felt his hands fold together at the small of her back. She wasn’t going anywhere without giving his nephew a show. She sighed. “Thorin, I am tired. Can we please take this up later?” He looked at her for several long moments. He knew that she was trying to escape the conversation, but he could also see that she was tired. She had been leaning on him during her conversation with Deacon. She probably shouldn’t have ventured out so soon after waking. He leaned to kiss her cheek before lifting her in his arms to carry her back to bed. 

\--

He almost died. Then he almost froze to death. So, he almost died twice. He was severely beaten and he had no idea where she was but it seemed that there were others following her as well. He was slightly miffed that she considered herself married, but he was certain that as soon as he showed up she would leave the man. For now, he needed to rest and let his face in the very least, heal. He looked around the room he had barely lived long enough to get to and realized that yes, The Order had made him dull and soft. 

He would remedy that as soon as he was back on his feet.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.  
> Time to take a quick look into that explicit rating.
> 
> Thank you for kudos and comments.

She didn’t sleep for long and when she woke she found that she had been put back in bed. At least she wasn’t alone and he was nice enough to have removed her heavy gown leaving her in the small silk gown she favored. She inwardly sighed. She suddenly longed for her silk gowns. 

He was lying on his back and his eyes were closed. She knew he was awake. She remained still for several moments as the mild dizziness and nausea passed. She would be happy when she was back to normal. She would clean out her wound and see if there were signs of infection or poison. An indication of either would explain her nausea.

She turned on her side raised herself up to look at him. He opened his eyes smiled. She smiled in response and leaned to kiss him. He slipped his arm around her and she moved over him letting her knees rest outside his hips as the kiss deepened. He groaned a little and gripped her hair as he held her in place. He felt her hands slide up his chest underneath his tunic as she languidly kissed him. He let his free hand trace up her leg as he slowly sat up, mindful to not break their kiss. She did break it, however, to pull his tunic from him and was quick to return once it was free from his frame. He laid back down, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck to make certain she went with him. He held her in place, making certain that she was unable to break away from the kiss. In turn, she managed to remove his trousers with a foot and his help. Her injured leg started throbbing, but it seemed so distant as he moved his hands to her hips slowly pulled her onto him. Their kiss absorbed his low moan as she settled on him, her body quickly adjusting and accepting him.

She slowly rocked against him, breaking away to kiss his neck. He tightened his grip on her hips as he pushed up into her. She closed her eyes and let out a long breath as she sat up. She placed her hands on his arms she slowly moved, rocking against him. He let out a low noise, frustrated at her languid speed. She smiled, perfectly content with a slow ride. He moved with her, moving his hands up to trace his fingertips down her neck. She let her head fall back at the touch, drawing in a slow breath and releasing it as she felt his fingertips trace over her collar on their way down and cup her breasts. Her hands tightened over his arms in response to the new sensation coursing through her. Her breath caught when he rubbed his hands over her nipples and resorted to gently teasing them. He closed his eyes as she increased the speed of her movements. He held out as long as he was able, but he knew he couldn’t for much longer. He clamped his hands on to her hips to better push into her. She gasped, leaning forward to brace herself against his chest. Her hair fell over him in a shimmering shroud of silver. He wanted her to open her eyes, he wanted to know that she saw only him during her release. He pulled her down to him in a lingering kiss meant to swallow their mutual moaning. 

She didn’t open her eyes.

\--

She managed to avoid meaningful conversation over dinner by keeping the boys engaged in conversation and gently prodding them to tell her long winded stories. They had happily obliged her and she even managed, to Dis and Thorin's dismay, to keep the banter up while she assisted Dis in cleaning. She, of course, knew that as soon as they all sat down with the wine she would be in the spotlight. Perhaps she would just drink and get too sleepy to answer questions.

They slowly settled with their wine around the fire. She was content to curl up on her husband’s lap. She ended up sitting next to him, yawning as she did so. He wrapped his arm around her and sipped his wine. She leaned into him and closed her eyes. She knew that she needed to escape to bed. She would have to nod off here.

“What happened to you?” Her sister-in -law didn’t even bother to ease the question into a conversation.

She didn’t bother to open her eyes when she answered. “Clearly I was shot.” Dis huffed and she knew that Thorin smiled. They had not yet been exposed to her newfound sarcasm and dry humor.

“That isn’t what I meant an’ you well know it.”

“Asking me what happened to me is a vast question for me to consider since I have had many things happen to me since we have last seen each other.”

"You know damn well what I am asking you about." She waited, knowing full well that Dis wasn't a patient woman. She didn't really want to anger the woman, she cared deeply for her, but this was the easiest way to get her flustered so she would stop asking questions. She remained still as if she dozed off. "Amaryllis, I know you aren't sleeping."

“I typically require silence to sleep, but I have been known to make exceptions.”

She spoke with a measured tone, keeping her annoyance barely in check. "Why was the word of your death sent to us?"

“I do not know.” She could hear the grinding of teeth, she felt Thorin stiffen. She let out a soft breath. “That is the simple and most truthful answer that I can give you. I do not know why that message was sent.”

“What happened that made someone feel as if that message should be sent?”

“The palace fell under attack and was taken.” She didn’t bother to open her eyes. She decided that she would keep her tone flat for whatever answers she would give in this conversation. She also well knew that the questions she would be presented and thus answer this evening would spur a new slew of nightmares.

“Your father?” 

“Killed.”

“Your mother?” Her tone softened.

“Killed.”

A long pause. “Brothers?”

“They were not at court at the time of the attack.”

“Where are they now?”

“Presumed dead.” 

“You escaped…”

“I was rescued before they were able to kill me.” As long as she kept her eyes closed she could keep her body relaxed and her tone flat. She couldn’t look at them right now. She couldn’t bear to see the pity that would be in their eyes.

She had hoped that Thorin would fill in blanks for her by offering information to keep Dis distracted. He was doing no such thing. In fact, he had returned to a relaxed state as he sipped his wine. Her hope in him saving her from the conversation was short lived and as she predicted he was leaving her to his sister. She had paused, presumably to let her swallow the sorrow of her family being killed. She wanted to sip her wine, but she wasn’t interested in overtly showing that she was still awake. Dis would certainly pounce if she did.

“Who is ruling Haxen now?” She reached for her wine and sipped with as minimal of movements as possible now that Dis was back at it.

“A committee has been established to manage it.”

“A committee.” She could hear Dis roll her eyes with that comment. “Who rules it.”

“As I said. A committee.”

She took a long drink of her wine as her sister-in-law took in and released a long breath. “Years ago…” She started calmly. “…I would have accepted that answer from you. Years ago, you held a naivety, an innocence of the world and how it worked. Your father had protected you very well and you advertised it with how you handled yourself.” A pause, presumably to sip wine. She did not know and she wasn’t yet ready to open her eyes. “That being said, let me ask something else. Who rescued you?”

“The Order.”

“I see.” Dis fell to silence. Amy knew well that she was being baited. Dis was hoping that she would be as she used to and fall into the trap of not wanting silence to reign and to prevent that she would begin filling in the blanks. 

Silence did reign as she rested against Thorin while Dis glared at her. Presumably. Most certainly. She didn’t smile at that, but she wanted to. The tension grew palpable. She could hear the boys shifting nervously. She wasn’t giving in. If Dis had a question she could ask it. If not, she could doze off while resting against her husband. 

“The Order has its own army.” It wasn’t a question and it startled her. She had dozed off after all. She managed not to physically move, but Thorin would have felt her body tense at being awoken by the statement. Since it was a statement, she wasn’t about to respond to it. “If they saved you…The Order and its army…” Dear Eru, Dis was baiting her again. “…why not your father. He was King.”

“The palace was under attack. The chaos surrounding such a situation would make it difficult to remove singular people.”

“They found you.”

“Perhaps I was screaming louder than my father was.” She said it dryly and she meant it to be a sting to settle Dis and her questions down.

"Perhaps." She heard Dis move as she refilled wine glasses. "But, I doubt it." She said somewhere in the middle of her self-appointed task. Dis filled hers last, reminding her that she was balancing it on her leg. "Tell me again why your father wasn't saved. I believe I misunderstood you."

She kept her eyes closed as she wrapped her hand around the glass. “I cannot speak to the circumstances of his death. I was not near him when it happened.”

“Then how do you know he is dead.”

“I saw his body.”

“Then who killed him.”

“I do not know.”

"Yes, you do." Dis kept her voice calm and soft. She could feel the woman's eyes on her as she had not moved away.

“I do not.”

“You saw his body. Since his palace was sacked I doubt there was a memorial for him. You saw him perhaps moments after he was killed. So, who killed him.”

“I do not know.”

“Shall I tell you.” 

“Oh, please do.” It came out dryly, for that she was happy. She was ready to snap at the woman.

“Maybe…”

“I mean…” Amy cut her off. “…after all you must be well versed in the politics of my home. You certainly know all the players. Which is amazing since you have never been even close to Haxen and the only other Haxen you have seen besides me was my father.” She sipped her wine. “So please. Explain my father’s kingdom to me and tell me who killed him. I am dying to know.” She was glad she took the dryness from her tone and kept it flat.

She heard the woman walk away and return to her chair. The tension was palpable before, now it was damn near suffocating. “I only know what you have told me of your home. Haxen is remarkably insular.” She finally stated.

“Would you like a history lesson on it?” She asked dryly.

"No. Tell me about the night the palace was taken."

“There was a feast then there was an attack and the palace was taken.” She sipped her wine.

“You are a better story teller than that. What did you do that day before joining the feast?”

Well, this was interesting. Taking the long route to her destination. She shifted, moving some of her weight to Thorin, who in turn moved his arm from her shoulders down her back to rest on her hip. "I woke late. The palace was loud into the night and I had troubles falling asleep." She opened her eyes. It wouldn't do her any good to be able to picture the events as they took place. She idly locked her gaze on the fire, ensuring that her face and eyes held no clue as to her emotional state. "After breakfast, I took a walk through my mother's gardens and by chance met up with a friend. He walked with me and we talked for a great while."

“Who was he?” Her voice was gentle.

“Edmund. Though he was called Ed as it didn’t seem right that he be called by the same name as the king.”

“What did you talk about?”

She blinked, her eyes still on the fire. "His home, his family. He asked me about where I was living, what it looked like and what the people were like. Eventually, we were approached by the queen's guards…I was to return to the palace."

“You were allowed to walk with a man, not of your kin without an escort?” Surprise tinged the question.

“Of course. It was Eddy. His mother and my father were close friends. I used to stay with them when I was a child.” Her thoughts drifted to Eddy and why would it have been odd that she was allowed to walk and talk with him.

“What did you do when you returned to the palace?”

She blinked, the question removed her from her wandering thoughts. “Took a bath. Then dressed to join the king and queen.”

“Why do you remove yourself from them like that?”

“I do not know what you are asking me.”

Dis blinked and looked at the woman. She had finally opened her eyes and locked them on the fire. She was relaxed against Thorin, her body at least. Her face and eyes were…hollow. No expression. Her eyes weren’t even changing color as they used to. Thorin had warned her that Amy was much different. She hadn’t known what to make of that, but she was seeing it now. She was detaching herself from what she was talking about. She was trying to remain on the outside looking in. And as long as Amy did that they would have no idea what she was thinking. She sipped her wine as she watched the shell-like Amy look into the fire. What did she see? 

“You do not call them Dad and Mom or even Father and Mother. You refer to them as King and Queen.”

“That is who they were.” Amy sipped her wine.

“You joined them…then what?”

“I talked with people, I danced…typical things that are done at a feast.”

“Until?”

“The king released me. I was to leave at dawn and he didn’t want me to be kept too late.”

“What did he do? Wave you away?”

“Danced with me.”

“Did you talk with him?”

“Yes…” Amy’s eyes were glossing over, even though they remained locked on the fire. Her face held no emotion. Her voice was flat. This was going to be tough. She didn’t want to do this to Amy, to drag her through her memories. She had to, Amy had to get past it and this was the best place for her to do so. She was surrounded by family, by those who loved her no matter what had happened.

“What did he say.” She asked softly.

“He’d visit me when he was able.”

“That is all?” Dis had witnessed how eloquent and talkative her father had been when Amy was first delivered to Erebor. It seemed odd to her that he would have so little to say to his daughter.

“Yes.”

“You left the feast after that?”

“Yes.” Amy slowly blinked. She had been warned about the slow blink. 

“Where did you go?”

“I was walking to my chambers.”

“That isn’t what I asked. Where did you go?”

“I left the ballroom.”

“And went where?”

“As I said. I was heading to my chambers.”

“As I said. That isn’t what I asked you. Where were you once you left the ballroom?” Several slow blinks. A sip of wine and one more long blink.

“Hidden corridor.”

“That led to your chambers? Or near them?”

“No."

“Where did this corridor lead?”

“Servants chambers.”

“Why were you going to the servant’s chambers?”

“I wasn’t.”

“But you were in the corridor that led to them.”

“I was mistaken in what was at the end of the corridor.”

“You were lost.”

“Yes.”

“What happened when you got to the servant’s chambers?” The move was quick. Her hand tightened around the glass, just a fraction. She slowly blinked.

“I did not reach them.”

“Okay, you realized your mistake and turned back. Where did you go then?”

"Nowhere." A long blink and just like that the gloss was gone from her eyes and her grip softened. She watched her brother close his eyes in relief. As if the worst was over. Dis had no way to tell him this was the calm before the storm. This was where it was going to get nasty. She looked to her boys and waved them out. Very reluctantly they rose and left. She was certain they would eavesdrop, but she had a feeling that Amy wouldn't let go or snap in front of them. Amy's breeding wouldn't allow it. She had come from a hedonistic society, yes, but early on Dis had noted how deeply ingrained it had been with Amy to not only know her place in society but to keep herself contained and in control around those who were considered beneath her rank. Technically, Amy was now queen of two kingdoms.

“Tell me what happened when you realized that you were in the wrong corridor.”

“No.”

Her response was immediate. It was firm. “What about your guards. Did they say nothing?”

“I was alone.” Dis blinked. Again. No guards. The only place guards did not accompany her during her stay in Erebor was when she was in her chambers. Guards even followed her, albeit at a distance, when she was with Thorin.

“You turned to walk back?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t return to the ballroom. Which means you stopped walking. Why?” Slow blink. “What made you stop walking?”

“Screams…” Dis paused and watched her slowly blink several times. “I am tired.”

“Who was screaming.” Amy shook her head and slowly blinked. “Amy. Who was screaming?”

“I do not know.”

“Where was it coming from?” Slow blink. Dis could see why Thorin hated that. With every blink, she removed herself from what she was experiencing physically and emotionally. She was disconnecting and looking for an escape route. “Was it from the servant’s chambers?”

“Yes.”

“What did you do?” Amy closed her eyes. “Amy…”

“Nothing…”

"Did you run?" She asked immediately, not giving Amy any time to do anything other than reacting to her.  
“No.”

“Then what? What happened next? What did you see?”

“It was dark. I couldn’t see anything.”

“What did you hear?”

“Armored men.”

“Where were they?”

“Coming from the servants’ chambers.”

"Why didn't you run the other way?" Amy's hand tightened around her glass until her fingers and knuckles were white. Thorin was now watching. He was worried, but she could see that he was waiting to hear as well. "Amy. Why didn't you run."

“I was terrified…and confused.”

“Confused. Why?”

“People were coming from the other direction. I saw a torch.” 

“Who were they?” Amy frowned. “Who was carrying the torch?” 

“Ansel.”

"Who is that?" She was determined to keep the pressure on Amy. It seemed to be working.

“Queen’s guard.”

“Your father’s men.” Dis stalled reaching for another question.

“No.” Dis and Thorin blinked.

“Whose men guarded the Queen?”

“Jon’s men.” Amy frowned and sipped her wine, her eyes snapping from the fire to stare into the glass.

“Who were the other men, the ones coming from the servant’s chambers?” Amy snapped her eyes up to lock on hers and it almost made her jump. Clear, emotionless purple stared at her. A hard, penetrating stare. “Answer me.” She had to force that question. To be honest Amy managed to unnerve her a bit.

“They also wore Jon’s four-pointed star.”

Dis’s mind screamed for her to redirect the conversation. “So you were stuck in the middle. Between two groups of men?”

Amy blinked. Then slowly blinked again and turned her focus back to the fire. “Yes.” Thorin frowned.

“Anyone else?”

Amy took a long breath. “I am tired.”

“Who else was in the corridor?”

She closed her eyes. “The Queen.”

“Your mother, what of her baby?”

“He was there as well as his nurse.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk anymore.”

"Amy, what happened next?" Dis frowned when she was given silence. Amy's reactions made no sense. She drifted around to many extremes. That in and of itself wasn't bothersome. What truly bothered Dis was that she wasn't sad. How was she not feeling sadness anymore? It was there when she spoke of her father, but now. Nothing. Her eyes fell closed. "Amy?" Silence. She took a long breath. "Amaryllis?!"

No reaction. Just about when she was ready to grab Amy and shake her Amy’s flat voice emerged. “The Queen and her men were killed.”

“What happened?”

“I just told you.”

“Who died first?” She counted to five. “Who died first, Amy?”

“I did not see who fell first.” 

Dis knew she couldn’t let Amy open her eyes or even pause. “Who did you see fall first?”

"The child." Dis grimaced but kept the pressure on her.

“Then who?” 

“I do not know. I wasn’t watching…”

“What do you see Amy?”

“The Queen…”

Tears welled up in her eyes. She knew exactly what Amy was seeing behind her closed eyes. It made her sick to keep this going. “Has she been killed?”

“No. She is alive.” Amy’s eyes were moving under their lids.

“What is happening?”

“He can see me…” 

“Did you run?”

“Yes.”

“What happened next?”

“He caught me. I couldn’t breathe…I can’t get away.”

“Are you being strangled?”

“No.” The grip Amy had on her glass was threatening to break either the bones in her hand or the glass. Dis was sick to her stomach, she had just pushed her sister-in-law back to recalling being raped.

“Did you get away from him?”

“Yes…”

“How?”

“He…stood up…”

“Did you run?”

“Yes. He tried to cut my throat.”

“The scars on your neck and hand.”

“Yes.” Dis nodded. Thorin told her of that.

“What happened next.”

“Blackness.”

“Who attacked you?”

“I don’t know.” Her grip loosened on the glass.

“One of the Queen’s guard?”

“I don’t know.”

“Couldn’t you see him?”

“No.”

“How is that possible?”

“It just is.”

Amy was relaxed again. She had removed herself from her memories again. Thorin, however, was ready to explode. He had managed not to manifest this physically, as Amy was laying against him and he likely didn't want to alarm her. This sudden realization made Dis frown; they were dancing on eggshells, afraid to upset Amy. "I just isn't. Why can't you see him?"

“Your mind has the ability to block horrible images to spare your sanity.” A very pat answer that made her want to shake the little blonde woman. 

“Your mind isn’t blocking it.”

“You cannot read my mind Dis.”

"Not quite yet. But I know you are not only hiding things but you're lying your ass off."

“Clearly you have the answers then. Does that mean I get to go to bed?”

“Sure. Clear up what the hell happened in that corridor and I will leave you alone.” She smiled when Amy muttered a Haxen curse. Apparently, Amy didn’t realize that they now knew how to speak her native language.

“I do not speak of things I cannot make sense of. I have told you enough for the evening and will likely suffer reminders of the events in my sleep for the retelling.”

“So you see it in your sleep too? Then who was it?”

“I do not know.”

“Are you hiding his identity?”

“There wouldn’t be a reason for that.”

“Clearly not, so, why are you?”

“I do not remember.”

Dis rolled her eyes. She wasn't afraid of alarming or upsetting Amy. "You don't know or you don't remember. You can just admit it, Amy. You are hiding his identity."

"For fuck's sake, Dis. Drop it." Dis smiled. Another curse. Common language.

“I mean, seriously…I would for damn sure remember. I mean it would be burned into my memory. And I would damn well let the world know his fucking name.” Amy didn’t respond. Dis looked at Thorin, suddenly amazed at the patience he has for this woman. She attempted to give him an apologetic look then turned her gaze back to Amy, who still hadn’t bothered to open her eyes. “Was he one of Jon’s men?”

“Drop it Dis.” Flat. She had regained her composure. Dis had to admire how quickly she pulled herself together.

“One of your father’s? Probably not, one would reason that they would be guarding him…but then again. Why not? You were never guarded.” Dis smiled. It was low, but she’d go there. “Was that for privacy reasons?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

"Yes, you do. Were you like your mother? Did you keep lovers in your father's court?" She felt Thorin's eyes lock on her but was disappointed that Amy didn't bother to open hers.  
“No. I did not have a lover much less the plural form of such.”

"I suppose I can believe that. We would have seen the evidence; you were with us long enough." Dis paused and sipped her wine. "By your own version of events, he was one of Jon's men."

“Enough.”

“Both sides of the conflict were Jon’s men…”

“I said drop it…” Amy’s voice icily covered hers, interrupting her. She didn’t bother to even pause.

“…so your own brother sent men to…”

“Stop…” Amy said near hissing.

She paused for the briefest of seconds. "Who raped you, Amy?"

“Vargus! His fucking name is Vargus and he’s a certified member of The Order so I can’t do a fucking thing to him!” She blinked and sat back. Thorin had tensed up and gained his feet which alarmed Amy who also shot to her feet, her glass of wine forgotten as it slipped from her grasp and sprayed wine over her skirts when it tumbled on the floor. In a mild state of shock, she watched Thorin stalk out of the cottage after pulling his cloak from its hook. The color drained from Amy until Dis thought the poor girl would turn translucent. 

Amy blinked a couple of times and walked to the room she had been sharing with Thorin and silently closed the door.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments and kudos.

She had to threaten to send them to bed immediately after the King of Haxen left. They pouted, but finally, her sons behaved. She was determined to get a look at the woman who would marry her brother before she was to show the woman to her chambers. 

She met the woman’s father first and she had to admit that the tall, fair king took her breath away. King Edmund was easily the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. Delicate features lightly touched by age were framed with light hair. His blue eyes seemed to dance with laughter. He was easy mannered and kind. The relaxed manner in which he held himself eased those in the room with him and she was astonished when he managed to pull her two sons into an animated story. 

She had learned they were waiting for Thorin to return with his soon to be bride so she could say goodbye to her father. As King Edmund entertained not only her boys but the stodgy men that were her kin and royalty she found herself curious as to what his daughter would be like. Most certainly this girl would be extremely beautiful, but would she have her father's easy manner? Dis had hoped so. It would make living with her moody brother easier.

Guards entered the room signaling Thorin’s return with his betrothed. She watched as her brother walked in with a small woman holding his arm. Dis blinked. She was indeed a small woman. She had pushed her heavy black cloak back from her shoulders leaving it to reveal a silver gown with purple roses embroidered along the hem. Her long white hair was pulled back from her face and it spilled over her shoulders as she walked. As Dis suspected she was a beautiful young woman. And yes, she certainly was young. Her face lit up at the sight of her father and they shared a brilliant smile. 

Thorin paused and introduced her. Dis was stunted in her reaction when she saw jewel like Amethyst eyes regard her. As their rank dictated, the young woman curtsied, showing deference to her future sister in law. She blinked. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Amaryllis…" She said softly.

“It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Your Highness.” She didn’t expect such a voice to come from that young girl. She blinked in surprise when she heard it. It was honeyed and it was downright sexy. She smiled and nodded. 

They all watched in surprise as Amaryllis and her father exchanged a few words in their native language, which sounded painfully close to being an elvish dialect, then he went back to the story he had been telling. Only now, he had towed his lovely young daughter over and she joined in to add another perspective and lend voices, much to the delight of her sons. 

She found herself slightly disappointed when they wrapped up the story. The boys threw themselves not only at the fair King but his daughter. They both laughed musical laughs as they hugged the boys and thanked them for listening. 

King Edmund finally rose and nodded. It was time. Amaryllis schooled her features well to hide her sadness. Her jeweled eyes showed her feelings, however. They had fallen to a dull, almost gray hue. After the formal goodbyes were given the fair King grasped his daughter's hand and she walked with him as he headed for his horse. They briefly paused so she could pull her cloak and hood back in place after which they walked away. Once her hair was contained the large golden nine-pointed star was visible on the back of her cloak. Dis made a mental note to ask her about that star.

Dis and Thorin trailed them, far enough behind to give father and daughter their privacy. Thorin would invite her to dinner, no doubt, before leaving them. Dis would help her settle into her rooms. They stopped when King Edmund was next to his horse. They spoke for a bit more before the King bent to give his daughter a long hug, which was likely him trying to console her as well as he rubbed her back and spoke with her. 

They finally stepped apart and the King gained his saddle with ease. She stood and watched her father’s party turn their horses and ride away. Each of the men nodding to her as they did so. She stood well after they were away and Thorin moved to walk to her. Dis put her hand on his arm and shook her head. “Wait for her. She has just been left with strangers. She is probably terrified.” He nodded and they stood in silence, watching the young woman stare after her father.

\--

It was not lost to her that it was Vargus who had returned Amy’s necklace to Thorin and told the horrifically detailed story of her demise. Dis wept now that she realized every horrible detail that Thorin had been told of Amy’s attack had been told to him by the very man that did it to her.

She decided to give Amy a little space. Going after Thorin was completely pointless. He was furious and he needed time to himself. She busied herself with cleaning up the wine that Amy dropped when she shot to her feet. She puttered around with the rest of the glasses then moved to tend the fire. She finally took a breath and walked to the door and lightly knocked. As she suspected she did not get an answer. She slowly opened the door and found Amy staring out the window. She stood in the doorframe, watching Amy. Amy had pulled on her fitted leather. She made no illusions that Amy was unaware of her even though Amy was still as a statue as she looked out into the evening. 

She jumped when Amy suddenly moved. With speed and purpose, the woman spun away from the window and walked to the door. Dis moved and she passed by without even acknowledging her presence. Amy swung her cloak over her shoulders and left the cottage.

It took Dis a moment to blink herself to motion and rush to the door and open it. Amy was nowhere to be seen. She had vanished into the night. Alarmed she called for her boys to look for Amy or Thorin. She sat by the fire, facing the door willing it to open and have Amy in the very least return.

-

She was tired, nauseous and her leg hurt and she had yet to look at the wound herself. She knew well she was running on adrenaline alone and when she crashed she would likely sleep for another day. She made her way into the inn, by the time she had arrived she had buried herself in her hood, cloak, and scarf. Brushing through the lounge and bar she went to the stairs and lightly bounded up them.  
He sat in the corner of the bar. Willing his emotions to settle if only a little. Amy snapped and revealed information that she had denied knowledge of in the past. He snapped at her outburst and his reaction to the new information scared her. 

He saw her the second she slipped into the room. She weaved through it without gaining any attention. What was this? What was she doing? He waited until she was at the top of the stairs before he followed. When he reached the top of the stairs he remained hidden, watching her. 

She took in the closed doors that spotted the walls down the hall. She stepped to the first one and listened. Creaking. Heavy breathing. She silently moved to the next one. Same. Finally, at the second to the last door, she was greeted with silence. No light from underneath the door. She took a slow breath and silently slipped into the room. He raised his eyebrows and silently made his way to the door she vanished through. It took all of his will power to stamp down his emotions and listen. If needed, he could crash through the door at any time. What was the meaning of this?

She waited until her eyes adjusted to the lack of light as she listened. Even, slow breathing. She looked around the room, noting the location of furniture. Carefully she opened the door again and kicked it closed, immediately moving into the darkest corner of the room. He almost cursed when the door opened, but he did manage to slip in the room next door. He wasn’t sure if it was occupied or not, and he wasn’t about to look since no one was screaming.

The slam produced an immediate reaction. Deacon was on his feet, weapon in hand and searching the room. He was rapidly blinking his eyes meaning to force them to see into the darkness. She remained motionless and silent as he scanned the room and eventually moved to the door on silent feet. He listened at the door and gently opened it before peeking out and searching the hallway. Since he was dressed only in his trousers he didn’t step out of the room. He closed the door.

As soon as Thorin heard the door close the second time he escaped the room he was hiding in. He had half a mind to just get his wife and return to the cottage. At least until he heard them speak. 

Deacon made his way back to the bed, setting his long knife down on the bed side table. He sat on the edge of the bed keeping his back to her. She tightened her grip on the dagger she held in her hand. “Good evening, Your Majesty.” His melodic voice made her blink. She shifted her grip on the dagger, ready to throw it if need be. “Shall I light a candle?”

“Do not move.” He nodded and rested his hands on the bed so she could see them. She had so many questions. Her memory had flirted with her and given her a couple of details, but there wasn’t any sense to them. She frowned. Why did she assume he had the answers? Why the hell was she here?

“Did you have a question for me?”

She blinked. She would start small. "Why was your father banished from the court?"

She watched his back as he drew in a large breath and released it. “You know the answer to that.”

“I wouldn’t ask if I did.”

“He was your mother’s lover.”

“Not all of her rumored lovers were banished.”

“She only had one lover. Your parents were bound to each other by law. They did not choose to be wed.” She frowned. “Your father was the same. He merely didn’t get caught.” She ground her teeth together, wanting to drive the dagger into his back.

“Caught. So, they were caught together and my father finally decided to banish him?” He shrugged. "You are lying. He was banished for the error in judgment that killed Ryden.”

“Do you remember my father being at court?” She blinked, rapidly searching her memories for the last time that she had seen General Varen. “You were young, perhaps four or five, when he was sent away. Mind you, he was not stripped of his rank. Merely banned from court.”

“Ryden was killed when I was in my teens. That makes no sense.”

“Ryden’s death had nothing to do with the banishment. Before you were born your father took a long tour away from the palace. Once word reached him that the Queen was expecting again he cut the tour short to return in time for the birth. A son. Jon. You soon followed.” He paused for a moment. “As you and Jon got older it became more and more apparent that Jon was the odd child. You and the twins are fair. It is clear looking at the three of you who your father is.” He took a breath. “And it became clear who Jon’s father was.” He brushed his long red hair back over his shoulder and returned his hand to rest flatly on the bed. Tears escaped her eyes and coursed down her cheeks. In that moment it could have been Jon sitting there talking to her. 

Her voice was shaky but she managed to make sure that her hands did not tremble. “Jon isn’t of House Varen.”

“No. Only because of you was Jon even given a name.” She frowned. “Your father adored you and he knew that it would break your heart to lose your brother. So, Edmund granted him lands and a title. Had Jon taken the name of Varen it would have been a slap to not only the King but the Queen as well. Also, it would have identified his father for The Order.”

“You don’t make any sense. None of this makes sense…” 

“If I may?” Deacon began, likely because of her incomplete thought. “I would venture to assume that my father’s banishment is not what lacks sense in your mind. That being said; do you have another question?”

Amy scowled then she took a breath. “Why are so many people chasing me? Why am I so important?”

“You are our Queen.” The answer was simple. She knew that would be what he said. 

“Kings and Queens come and go. The Order can dispose of them on a whim.” 

Deacon chuckled. “Yes. The Order does like shuffling the royal lines.”

“Why am I important? The Order doesn’t need me.”

“You are the only royal left. My father and brother…OUR brother Jon…have been at war with The Order to see you rightfully placed on the throne where you belong.”

"Where I belong?" The words were hollow as they left her lips.

“Yes. You do not belong out here, hiding in shadows as an assassin for The Order.” He paused. “But do tell me…Why don’t you believe they need you?”

She blinked. “Who attacked the palace? Who killed the Queen?”

Deacon sighed. “You know the answer to that.” 

A wave of heat washed over her. Her hands started trembling and her voice shook. She wasn't done yet, stamping down aggressive nausea that gripped her she continued. “Who killed my parents?”

“The Order.” 

“You are lying.” She hissed.

“The Order attacked the palace while wearing Jon’s four pointed star. The Order called you back, not your father. They wanted you to see the attack. They wanted you to fear your home. You were supposed to have been wed into another kingdom and they would have you name your successor. Whomever The Order had chosen to take the throne would take your place, with all the benefits that come with it.” He paused and slowly turned his face to her. “But when you returned they learned you had not yet wed. That caused complications.” He took a long breath, turning his body to face her as well. “You have something they want. Something that they didn’t get from King Edmund. That is why they told your husband you were dead. That is why they protect you. You have something or have access to something they want and that is the only reason you are still alive. The Order will kill you when they get it.”

“He wouldn’t do that to me…” Her voice was weak. She sounded as if she would break at any moment. 

“He? Who is he?” Deacon rose and turned to face her. He started to take a step towards her. 

“Stay there.” Suddenly her voice was firm. In control, belying the fact that she was ready to collapse.

Deacon titled his head as he gazed at her silhouette. “The assassin? What was his name? Daven? He’s an interesting fellow. He certainly is fond of whores. Red haired ones at that.” She squared her shoulders at the comment. “Oh, you knew that too.”

“I think I am done here.” 

He stepped to the door and waved to her as if he was suddenly her butler. On silent and careful feet, she made her way to the door. “You certainly are quiet as a church mouse, aren’t you?” She stopped.  
“And jittery. You baffle me, Your Majesty.” 

“Please don’t call me that.”

"Well, I can't call you Amy or Amaryllis. It is highly improper. You can put your knife away." She made it to the door and raised an eyebrow at him. He smiled and opened it for her as she tucked the blade into her long sleeve. She froze and blinked when she looked up. The smile faded from his face when he saw her husband in the door frame. "Well, this certainly is awkward."

Icy blue eyes snapped to him as he grasped his wife’s forearm and guided her back into the room. Amy moved with him and Deacon closed the door before turning to light a candle and find his tunic. He watched as Thorin motioned for Amy to sit. She did, silently. Dear God, that man looked livid. Of course, he would be too if he just found his wife in a dark room with a half-naked man. He sat on the bed again, mindful to not look at Amy, but keep watch on…was Thorin his King? That thought struck him as odd. Perhaps Thorin would be considered a Consort to the Queen. That sounded better. The corner of his mouth twitched, itching to smile. “What is funny?” He blinked. The question was asked in a deep and threatening tone.

“My own mind trying to ease the burden of how horrible this must look to you.”

Thorin regarded the man. He knew Deacon was uneasy around him. He preferred that. “I have a few questions and I would like clear answers.” Deacon nodded. “You stated that her parents were together because they were bound by law. I want you to explain that and then I want you to explain your comment regarding her father being the same.”

Deacon took a minute to replay his words in his head and nodded. "The Order chooses the Royals. Edmund didn't get to marry the woman he wanted. He had to marry the woman The Order chose. I suppose you can understand that. You are royalty, you marry for strategy. Haxen royalty marries to appease The Order. Amaryllis is the first to have been given to an outside kingdom. As for her father being the same, that is obvious. Edmund was not a faithful spouse. Much like his wife, the Queen, he had a long-term lover.”

“You are lying…” Amy said softly. “…my father…”

Deacon cut her off with a wave. Which earned him a foul look from her husband. “Your father had a family in the north. He sent you to visit them during the late summer and early fall months. You were named for his lover.” He hated that he was shattering her pristine perception of her father, but she needed to realize that her father was not a virtuous man and because of that the legacy left in his wake had turned to war. A war that had her in the middle as the most important component, yet with the least information. His personal memories of interacting with her father were most unpleasant. He did concede that where she was concerned Edmund had been a good father. Edmund had taken great pains to protect her even to the point of sending her out of the reach of The Order. But Edmund had not given her any information. Edmund had trusted that she would have been safe and in doing that he had made her so very vulnerable. 

“That is not true…” She maintained her soft tone. He watched as her husband rested his hand on her back. He wasn’t sure if it was meant to silence or comfort her. He was struggling to see her attraction to this man. Especially since he was so very different than the assassin. “…my father was devastated by her betrayal.”

“Your father was devastated that she was caught and The Order would react. It put his and your life in jeopardy.” She shook her head but didn’t say anything more. “King Edmund adored you. You were perhaps the only thing left in his life that wasn’t a lie, that wasn’t corrupt. The only way he could keep you that way was to send you away. To keep you out of the reach of The Order. Send you where you would be taken care of, where you could have children and enjoy your life.” 

She wanted to cry. To just break down and cry herself to sleep. And then hide until it all went away. Thorin stroked her back. She took a long breath and closed her eyes. Was everything she knew a lie? Had the only honesty she known been with Thorin and his family? Another wave of nausea gripped her. She leaned against Thorin, willing it away.

“Tell me about Daven.” Thorin felt her tense up, but he knew she wouldn’t say anything. Deacon’s eyebrows raised up into his hairline. 

“Oh…well…” Deacon blinked a few times. “…he was well-known, mostly by angry husbands and fathers. Of course, if you had money you could pay him for his more effective skill set.” Deacon regarded the man for a moment and let his eyes fall to his Queen. She was laying against her husband with her eyes closed. To be honest, she looked ill. “Daven was an assassin. So, when the rumors hit that The Order had managed to hire him on and keep him on staff we were shocked. The Order typically shies away from his type.”

“His type? Assassin?”

“God no. The Order loved assassins. They shied away from…men like Daven. Men of the world.” An eyebrow raised. Deacon sighed. “The Order despises men who adore whores.” Deacon shrugged. “But Daven was employed and before long rumors circulated that he was traveling not under the colors of The Order, but with someone who did. It was rough guess work, but we finally realized that The Order had paired Daven with…" He gestured to Amy. "…our Queen." Deacon took a breath. "The mercenaries were paid to bring them back. Daven's life was negotiable. But they…” He nodded to Amy. “… were good. Near impossible to track and even harder to catch. Then finally something broke, finally, something went our way. A horse was returned without its rider. A bloodied sleeve of a coat came with it. It seemed that we had failed to bring her in safely. That she was killed." He paused, letting the man process his words. "When Daven returned we watched him. It took a few days and most lost interest, but suddenly he left. And if anyone was going to find her, it was him. So, we followed and here I am." 

“How do you know all of these things?”

Deacon looked at him and then to Amy. “I have to confess. I have no idea how to handle this relationship, Your Majesty.” Deacon smiled a little when she opened her eyes and looked at him.  
“You defer to me as your Queen.” He nodded. “Then Thorin is your King.”

“As I figured.” He nodded. “Though Queen’s Consort sounds more interesting.” His smile faded when Amy closed her eyes and he looked up to see Thorin scowling. “Right. No sense of humor…” He shrugged. “We catch and have long conversations with certified members of The Order.”

“You torture them.” Thorin’s words were flat.

“Sometimes. Even that rarely works. Their loyalty to The Leader is astonishing.” His eyes fell to Amy. “She looks rather ill. Perhaps we should continue this later. As I said earlier, I will stay in service to her.”  
Thorin looked down at Amy and then nodded. He urged her to her feet and pulled her cloak over her shoulders as she hid her hair and face.

 

The boys returned first, having no idea where either had vanished to. So, for what seemed to be days they all waited. 

They came to their feet when the door finally opened and revealed Thorin. He was carrying Amy. He carried her to their shared room and when Dis moved to follow he shook his head. She stopped and nodded. 

She had been tired, so he carried her for the last half of the walk back. He was surprised at how quickly she fell asleep once she was off the ground. He worked to get her out of her cloak and clothing. Her sleeping form was making it a difficult task. He finally came across the sheaths. One strapped to each forearm. She had not worn these before. He unbuckled them and set them aside. He wondered if she had gone to Deacon's room to kill him. It made sense. How she entered the room and that he heard Deacon tell her she could put her knife away. 

He finally got her out of her leather. He considered burning it but thought differently when he saw the bandage on her leg had bled through. He sighed and threw the leather into the corner and tugged the cotton gown into place on her. She was warm to the touch and she hadn’t stirred through him undressing and dressing her. He laid her down and looked out the door and waved his sister in.

She scowled when she saw the bandage. She quickly cut if off to see dark blood pooled in a heavily bruised and festering wound. It was infected. She sent Thorin from the room so she could clean the wound without him worrying about her and wondering if she was hurting Amy. It took time. The infection dug deep into the tissue and when she was certain she got it all she lightly wrapped the wound. She would have to keep a better watch on it this time. 

She sat looking at the woman. She felt a pang of sorrow. Amy had been so naïve. Then she went home and something happened. She changed. How did she do that? How was she disconnecting? Where was her flat, rehearsed answers coming from? Her eyes drifted over the room and stopped on Amy's bag. It had been moved.

She took a breath and walked to it. She knew she shouldn’t. But she did. She scooped it up and sat down with it. Inside was a large black bundle. She pulled it out and looked at it. It was a corset. No…she saw a hole in the fabric. On the inside was…something she couldn’t identify. It wasn’t metal. 

She scowled, set it down and unrolled it. Wrapped within was a letter. She looked at the letter, it was written by her brother Jon. Tears filled her eyes when she read it. She took a breath and rose. She left the room, carrying the corset-like garment and the letter.

Thorin looked at her the second she opened the door. “Her leg gained an infection. She will be sick for a while…” He looked at the items in her hand. She offered him the letter. “I found this.” He took the letter and read it. It created more questions. He sighed and watched his sister set down the black bundle.

“What is that?” He grasped it and frowned. It wasn’t long enough to be a corset, but it was too wide to be a belt. He found the hole in the fabric. He reached for a small knife and cut the fabric away revealing a spider web like crack in the dark glass laying underneath. “Armor?” He muttered softly.

“Made of dark glass?” Dis blinked. “Isn’t that dangerous? It could shatter and make its way into her.”

He tossed the garment on the table and sighed. “It is very difficult to shatter dark glass. It is also very difficult to work with.” He said with resignation in his voice as he noted that the garment was contoured. It had been specifically made for her.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

He was preceded by his guard. Of course, the average Haxen citizen had no way of knowing who in the group held rank. They were all dressed identically. It aided in concealing which of them was The Leader.

By the time they arrived panic and chaos had destroyed the ballroom. He stepped over the dead, paying them no heed. He didn’t even want to think of what would go into cleaning this mess up. Death was a foul thing. People were filthy in life, especially nobility. In death, they were worse.

The King was waiting for him. Not by his choice, but nonetheless, Edmund was there. He smiled a little as he walked through the room. The King was being held in place by guards. He had not fought. He looked over Edmund. No words needed to be exchanged. Edmund knew this day would come. Just as Ryden knew.

He dragged his knife over the throat of the King and for a few moments, the only noise in the room was that of the King choking on his own blood. Without emotion, he watched the Kings lifeless body fall. Men scuttled into the room as he wiped his blade clean.

"We cannot find her." Came the breathless confession. He ground his teeth and started walking to the exit.

“Spread out. Find her. She is not to be harmed.” His men scattered as they entered the ballroom. He walked the length of the ballroom before he heard a cry. A familiar voice.   
The Queen.

His mother. 

He dismissed it but froze mid step when he heard another cry. Different voice. This voice spurred him to a run. It was now screaming in terror.

The Princess.

His sister.

He had to leap over bodies to get to her. Or rather get to the imbecile that was going to kill her. “Drop her.” His command was immediately heeded and the poor girl fell to the floor, unconscious. He growled inwardly as Vargus stepped back from her. He regarded her form. Her hand had a deep wound that was gushing blood. He tugged his scarf free and wrapped her hand. He knew that wound needed immediate attention and if not handled properly would cripple her hand. That would be unacceptable, provided she lived. 

Once wrapped he looked over the rest of her as he pulled his cloak free. Her throat was rapidly turning purple and she was struggling to breathe. Her white skirts also held crimson stains. He let a long breath out. She had not yet been wed and this fool had ruined her.

He moved to wrap her in his cloak and noticed the jewel. It was hanging from her neck. He yanked the chain free and handed it to Vargus. “Take this to Erebor. Tell them she was found dead. Killed with the queen.” The man nodded and left. Perhaps by the time, that imbecile returned he would reconsider killing him for this misstep. 

He lifted her into his arms and turned to look back. He noted Jon’s men. Jon’s men died protecting their mother. He glanced at the remains of the infant. And then her. They hadn’t even lowered her skirts to give her that dignity in death. He looked at her lifeless eyes and felt nothing. 

She deserved her fate.

He gave the bodies one last look and walked out carrying his young sister. She had not deserved what had happened to her. Even though he gave the command, this was not his fault. It was the fault of her King. Well, and that wench they called their mother. But Edmund should have at least witnessed her wed before leaving her in Erebor. That would have made this situation much easier to navigate.

\--

“Thorin?”

“Hm?”

Dis regarded him. He was in hell. “What happened to her?” He moved his tired gaze to her. “I mean…you have seen it too. She disconnects. She removes herself from what she is talking about.” He blinked. “And the flat answers. It is as if they are rehearsed. Like she’s been…”

“Brain-washed.” He finished. He sighed and rose to pour them both wine. Once their glasses were full he sat again and took a long drink. “I overheard her talking to her man. I believe she’s been fed a host of lies.”

“From who? The Order? Are they a religion or a cult?”

“Yes. From them and I am not certain what they are. When I ask, she gives me a rehearsed answer.”

“But…why? Why would she believe any of it?”

“Because Logan is their leader.” Dis blinked. “Logan has been in control of her since her attack.”

“Her big brother. Her savior.” Thorin nodded. A pained look on his face.

“He abdicated his right to the throne and Jon was not Edmunds son. This leaves her as the rightful heir. Since we did not wed before she returned home he cannot argue away her claim.” Another long drink of wine. “So, he keeps her. Fills her head with lies. She’s a loyal servant to him.”

“What is the end game?”

"From what I overheard there is a tangible item. Something he wants or needs that she has the ability to get if she doesn't have it."

“And if Logan gets it?”

“He will kill her.”

“What of her man, Deacon?”

“He seems genuine.” He refilled his glass and took a long drink. “She went there to kill him. And I think she scared him.”

“Her?” Dis was surprised. “Kill him?”

“Apparently, it was one of many skills she was taught while living with The Order.”

“What kind of monster is her brother?” He shook his head and sipped his wine. “Thorin?” He looked at her. “Do you still love her? Or is this duty?” He gave her a hard look. “Do you feel bound to her because of a promise made by men who are long dead?”

“She’s my wife. She’s the only one I will have as such. She’s mine as I am hers.” Dis watched her brother deal with a tide of emotions. He did so very stoically, but it was there in his eyes. Pain. Helplessness. “I want to make her home right for her. And I cannot even make mine right.”

“The reality of this is…” She spoke softly. “…that your kingdom is yours to fix as hers is hers to fix.”

He shook his head. “She should have never had to do these things. She was…”

“Innocent. Naïve.” Dis nodded. “I know.” She sipped her wine, allowing him time to swallow his emotions. 

\--

It was their fourth time out together. It was the first time she had to do it. It made her sick to her stomach. The blood. The gurgling. The stench. The loss of light in his eyes.

She had killed a man.

They had long been gone from the scene. They were tucked away at an inn. And she had spent the evening throwing up. 

She had killed a man and she will never forget as she watched the life fade from his eyes.

Her more recent bout of vomiting finally ceased and she walked back to the bed chamber. He was waiting for her. He was slim, with brown hair and brown eyes. His handsome face seemed to always hold laughter. In this moment that annoyed her. 

As many times before he reached to pull her into his arms and was greeted with her soundly slapping him. He sighed. “Not even a hug?”

“Do not touch me.”

“Why not?” He looked her over. “You are beautiful…you beg to be touched.” She scowled at him. “You beg to be kissed and caressed and loved.” He watched her drop onto the bed. She had dumped her coat earlier, and he smiled looked at her leather covered behind. “Then let me at least massage you to sleep. You have had a rough day.”

“I will fucking kill you.”

“I will be gentle…” She turned her face into the pillow and he took that as a yes. He moved to her and unlaced the armor that covered her ribs. He tugged it free and let it drop to the floor. It thudded, likely from the weight of the damn glass within. He moved her hair from her neck and just before his lips touched her flesh he spoke softly. “Your shirt, darling…” He saw he goose flesh rise on her skin and he moved to pull the leather from her. He was careful not to touch as he removed it. He even made certain not to look, that would have been far too much temptation.

He softly stroked and massaged her back. He had never had a royal before or even nobility for that matter. Yes. He worked for her brother. But…she was young and soft… He groaned. He was ready to take her. He could not, however. Her reactions to men advertised that she had been raped. He needed to go slow with her.

With that in mind, he massaged her back until she was sleeping. As much as he wanted to, he did nothing else. Once he was certain she was sleeping for the evening he made his way from the room to find the first red head he could bury himself in.

\--

Every day while she slept he made it a point to sit with her. He spoke the same words. Over and over again. “What you witnessed was horrific; fortunately, your life was spared. You cannot fault him for what happened…he was seduced by the promise of riches. He was lured away from our way of life. We have brought him back into the fold. We have removed the hold on him that Jon had. Do not forget that, Amaryllis. Jon is our enemy. What kind of man would have his men carry out such a horrific task of what happened to you and mother?" He made certain he was there when she came out of her deep sleep. However, he did not let her completely wake. He did not want the fog of the medicines to clear from her mind just yet. 

It was looking more and more as if Jon was going to formally go to war with him. Until he was certain what Jon’s plans were and subsequently which lords would follow Jon’s lead he would have to keep her hidden in the Tower with him. He would have to give her direction. She needed to be worthy of living in the Tower. He would not tolerate a vapid royal to be of his Order.

\--

“What if more people come for her?” Dis paused. “I would think eventually she would have to return home.”

“Few people know she’s alive.”

“Yes, but of those who do know, how likely is it that they will come for her?”

“It seems to be very likely.”

“Will she return on her own?”

He looked at her. “She ran away. She doesn’t want to go back.” He sipped his wine. “She won’t leave now.” He added, more to his wine than her.

“Why not?”

He gave his sister a dry look. “She’s my wife. Think about that.”

Dis blinked, alarm crossing her features. “You did not tell me she was pregnant.”

“I do not know…we have not been together for very long.”

“But there is the possibility?”

He sighed not wanting to entertain a conversation surrounding his relations with his wife. “Obviously, Dis. She’s my wife.” He paused and looked at her. “Why?”

“She’s been sick. She now has an infection…” She paused. Dammit. She shouldn’t have even voiced this. She just gave him another host of stresses and fears. She sipped her wine, vainly hoping he’d drop it.

“And?”

She sighed. “Probably nothing…” He just looked at her. “...I am sure it will be fine. You have enough to worry about.”

He sat in silence for a bit longer before rising. He nodded to her and quietly entered the room Amy was sleeping in. She let out a breath she had been holding. Why did she give him that to worry about?  
He stripped down to his trousers and sat on the bed to look down at her. She had not stirred. Her breathing seemed labored. He was too tired to attempt to reconcile his emotions or even try to figure out the puzzles that surrounded her. So many things were so unclear.

She was his wife. That was clear. 

He stretched out next to her, sliding under the covers. He turned to his side and pulled her to him. She didn’t stir at his touch or when he moved her. She was still very warm to the touch. He wasn’t certain when a woman knew she was expecting. He wondered if Amy would tell him right away if she was. He sighed and kissed her hair. Slowly her breathing evened out, matching his. He finally closed his eyes and let himself sleep. 

\--

He ordered the palace to be cleaned. The bodies were carted out and burned. It took his people days, but finally, the palace gleamed. He would keep it vacated. The structure was far too beautiful to have filthy people living in it again. Eventually, this would be a home to an extension of The Order. Perhaps he would even leave the Tower and make his home here. It was a lovely structure.

He only returned to the building to search for something. A key. He wasn’t certain where the door was for said key, but he had a feeling that the information he needed was close to the key. He spent hours searching the King's chambers. When he found nothing, he made his way to Amaryllis's chambers. Perhaps what he was looking for was hidden away in there.

It was late into the night when he returned to his opulent chambers. He stopped in and checked on his sister. She was recovering well, but still unable to speak. Of course, she was still heavily sedated. He sat at his desk and stared into the night. He didn’t want to place her as Queen. She was far too charming for one. For two, she would have Jon’s loyalty and he couldn’t risk her getting near Jon. They had been close as children and he didn’t want to risk her taking up Jon’s cause against his own. 

He was forced to wait and see how she was once she was healed and they brought her out of the sedation.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

Her legs were being massaged. Hands moved up her legs, working on her thighs. She didn’t bother to open her eyes, she felt his hands. He was there with her. That thought alone excited her. He was there. She felt his lips press against her stomach softly. She smiled and reached to hold his head to her. She frowned when her fingers felt his hair. Short hair. That wasn’t right. She opened her eyes and looked down. Vargus smiled back at her.

She screamed and jumped back. She heard someone curse shortly before her head hit an unforgiving surface. She winced and reached to feel the back of her head. When she was certain that she hadn’t knocked a hole in her skull she opened her eyes. Dis was sitting on the bed watching her a fresh bandage in her hands.

She blinked and looked around. She had no memory of returning here. She had been talking to Deacon. She frowned. Why had she listened to him? Why didn’t she just kill him? That had been her plan, but for some reason still unknown to her she decided to wake him and talk with him. 

She looked at Dis and before she was able to ask anything she slammed her eyes closed and clapped her hand over her mouth to combat the wave of nausea that struck her. For several long moments, she remained still outside the shallow breathing through her nose. Just when she was certain it had passed the bed shifted as Dis rose. She groaned as another wave hit her even more aggressively. Time no longer existed, nothing existed but the will to control what she was experiencing.

She had no idea how long she sat, fixed in her misery, but when it passed and she opened her eyes she noted that Dis had pulled up a chair and was sitting next to the bed waiting for her. She had a cup of tea on her lap. Dis raised an eyebrow at her and she let out a breath before sliding back down into the bed under the covers.

"Do I even want to ask how you are feeling?" Amy groaned at the question and pulled the blanket over her head. She felt like she was dragged through hell and back. "Tell me what you feel like."

“Weak.” She muttered. “Sore.”

“How is your head?”

“Fine. I didn’t strike it that hard.”

“It seemed like you did. You seemed to be in pain.”

“No.”

Dis sighed and tugged the blanket down from Amy’s head. She moved to sit on the bed. As soon as the bed moved Amy frowned and her closed eyes squeezed shut even tighter. She waited, softly stroking Amy’s white hair. Finally, Amy relaxed a little. “Sit up…” She watched as Amy slowly sat up again. What little color her skin did possess had drained while she was sick. She looked frail, the poor girl certainly lost weight. And she didn't have much to spare, to begin with. She handed Amy the cup and watched in silence as she sipped it. "Do you think you can eat something?" Amy shook her head a little, closing her eyes. "You need to, you have been stuck in a fever for quite a while.”

“Maybe later.”

“After the tea settles your stomach.” Amy opened her eyes and looked at her. “You have been very sick for several days.” Amy slowly blinked but chose not to respond to the bait.

“Later after…” 

Dis waved her hand. “When the tea settles your stomach. I will not argue on this.”

Amy frowned. “I need a bath…I need to get up and move around.”

Dis ground her teeth. “I will draw a bath for you while you eat.”

For a long moment, she held Amy's gaze. Those lovely Amethyst eyes locked on hers. Then finally, there was the slow blink followed with a small nod. Dis nodded in return and left the room. 

She left Amy to her own devices and trusted the small woman would eat what she was given as she prepared a bath for her. Once Amy had eaten she took the dishes away and found her a new cotton gown to wear. She followed Amy to the bath and lightly winced when she saw just how much weight Amy had lost. The poor girl was beginning to resemble a skeleton. 

Amy sank into the water and closed her eyes. “I will come back and wash your hair for you.” Amy offered a smile and nodded at her words. She left the room and closed the door. She walked to the bed and started stripping the linens from it. It wasn’t long after that she heard them return. She was almost finished redressing the bed when her brother walked in. She looked at him and he raised his eyebrows. “She’s awake.” She said it flatly.

“I had assumed so.” He regarded her as she finished up her task. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing…” She said bundling up the used linens. He leaned in the doorframe, filling it. She gave him a dry look, which he returned. “…she’s argumentative.”

“So are you.”

“She needs to go back to bed once she’s out of the bath.” He nodded. “And sleep.” He raised an eyebrow. “She can slowly return to activity. Slowly…once she’s gained back most of the weight she’s lost. Lord knows that woman is small enough as she is.”

He sighed and moved into the room. “I can’t wait to listen to you two go after each other.” He said dryly as he walked past her to check on his wife. 

“Wash her hair while you are in there.”

He nodded before walking into the room and closing the door behind him. She sighed and left the room, closing that door as well. 

-

She didn’t stir from the noise of the door. She was laid back in the water with her eyes closed. He knew she had lost weight, he slept next to her and held her during her horrible fever dreams. There had been nights that he had feared injuring her as it seemed she had become so frail. 

He walked over to the bath and knelt by it, leaning to kiss her cheek. She opened her eyes and smiled at him and turned to meet his lips. He gave her a small smile and kissed her. “How are you feeling?”

She slowly blinked. “Like I need to get back on my feet, to do something.”

“Perhaps you should rest until you are stronger.” 

“Laying around will only continue to sap my strength.” 

He sighed and moved behind her. “I recall a time when you didn’t argue so much.”

“You have mentioned.” She said softly. 

“Sit up. I will take care of your hair.”

She raised her eyebrows and sat up slowly. “I can take care of my hair.”

He nodded, gathering her already wet hair into one of his hands. “I didn’t say that you were incapable of the task.” She didn’t respond. He worked the soap through her hair considering what to say to her. He wanted to talk about their conversation with Deacon, but he wasn’t certain that was the best idea at this time. It seemed that his sister would prefer Amy was handled like an invalid. He kissed her shoulder. “Rinse your hair.” He watched her sink into the water and work the soap from her hair. Once she was finished she rose from the water and laid back again. He moved to her side again so he could see her face. She looked at him. “Outside of restless, how are you feeling?”

“Just weak and sore.” 

He nodded. “Dis wants you to rest until you have gained back the weight you have lost.” 

She frowned a little. “From what I understand, I have been resting for a few days, again.”

He nodded. “Perhaps sleeping, though not restful.”

She slowly blinked. “It isn’t uncommon for me to have nightmares.” 

He nodded. “Do you feel up to talking about your man?”

He watched her eyes cloud over before she closed them. “I don’t believe there is much to say about him.”

"There is plenty to talk about considering what he had to say."

“He’s a liar.” She bit the words out, keeping her eyes closed.

“He seems genuine.”

“He is against The Order. And I did not appreciate the blatant lies he told about my father.” He took a long breath. “He admitted to torturing members of The Order. I do not want to discuss him. In fact, I don’t want to see him again.”

He took a measured breath. He didn’t want to lose his composure. Which seemed to be the only thing he did in the presence of his wife. When she was awake that is. “I have to admit. I rather like that he’s not aligned with The Order.”

Her eyes snapped open and focused on him. “I work for The Order.”

“You mindlessly serve your brother when you should be his Queen.”

“Is that what you want? Do you want me to leave and go take up my crown?” He blinked and sat back, steadily looking at her. She looked at him for a moment and when he remained silent she rose from the water and snapped up a towel. He rose as well moving to let her step out of the water. 

“I don’t want you to leave. I am trying to understand what you are running away from.” She wrapped the towel around her. He frowned. “Why are you upset about his admission of torture?”

She looked up at him as if he just asked her the most foolish question he could have come up with. “How can you even ask that? My brother leads…”

“You brother allows your rapist to not only live near you but to be near you without any consequences for his actions!” She blinked. He was shouting and his voice easily carried before he shouted. “Do you have any idea what I would do to any man who even tried to do such a thing to my sister?” She blinked again. “What would Jon do if he knew of this? If Jon could get his hands on Vargus…what would he do?” She took a long breath as she watched him. Her eyes were clouded. “Jon would beat him to death, wouldn’t he?” She slowly blinked. “Just as he deserves. But not Logan. Logan lets him go on with his life unchecked. Allows him near you, so you see him. And you are powerless to do anything to him.” He took a long breath, attempting to calm down. She didn't speak. She just watched him. He couldn't tell if she was angry or frightened. Of course, he had witnessed her angry. She moved, she argued. Now she did neither. She just watched him. Was she frightened? He took a step in her direction. She didn't flinch or step back, she just watched him. He reached for her and pulled her into his arms. "What are you running from, Amy?" He asked softly. 

“All of it.” She answered quietly. “I don’t want any part of it. I just want to have a quiet life and have a family.” He nodded. So did he.

“You need to get back into bed…” She groaned. “…just humor her.” She nodded. He released her and watched as she dressed and worked the snarls from her hair. Once she had it in a long braid down her back she looked at him and nodded. He swept her up and carried her back to bed. He let her down gently and she slid under the covers. He looked down at her and brushed his fingers over her cheek. He bent to kiss her, lingering. She returned the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer to her. He let his eyes fall closed as he sat next to her and slipped his arms around her.

“Don’t mind me.” He groaned at hearing his sisters voice. She groaned as he released her. He smiled at her one more time then straightened up and rose.

“Try knocking in the future.” He said as he walked past his sister to leave the room. She scowled at him. She was holding yet another cup of tea and a bandage. He closed the door behind him and she walked over to sit on the bed.

“Here…” She offered Amy the tea.

“What is it?”

“Tea.” She watched Amy sit up.

“What kind of tea? What is it for?” Amy took the cup but didn’t sip it.

Dis pulled the blanket back while Amy moved so her wound was exposed. “It will help you sleep.” She started to wrap Amy’s leg.

“I don’t want it. I don’t need to be sedated.”

“It will also help with your nausea.”

“I am not nauseous.” 

She sighed and finished wrapped her leg. Then looked up at her. “You likely will be later.”

Amy frowned and held the tea out for her to take back. “I don’t want it.”

“Just drink it.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Amy glowered at her. She glared back. “Fine.” Amy blinked when she took the cup back and rose. “I will check on you later.” She walked to the door knowing full well Amy was warily eyeing her back. She smiled.

She left the room and looked at her brother. “You stay out and let her rest.” He rolled his eyes.

“I was going to take a walk anyway. A new rider came into town…” He said as he walked to the door.

“And you are worried they are looking for Amy?”

He sighed. “Don’t be left alone with her.” He said that more to his nephews than her.

He left the cottage and made his way to the Inn. He had noted that the rider had gone straight to the inn upon arriving. If this man had come because of Amy, he would have to consider moving with her again. He didn’t want her to go back to her home, but her home was proving to have a long reach. 

He walked into the lounge and looked around, letting his eyes adjust to the change in lighting. Once adjusted he noted that Deacon was sitting with the hooded man. He frowned. What was the meaning of this? He was about to turn and head back to Amy when Deacon noted him and waved him over. His eyebrows furrowed, but he made his way over. Deacon met him halfway and spoke lowly. “I sent a message around the time I located the assassin.”

He blinked. “You sent a message?”

Deacon nodded. “Come, let me introduce you.” He scowled at the man's back but followed. The man rose from his seat and turned to face them. He blinked when he saw familiar features. Warm purple eyes regarded his approach. “This is…”

“Jon.” He finished. The hooded man nodded. 

"Well I was going to say, my brother." Deacon pouted. “But this is Thorin…”

“How is she?” Jon’s voice wasn’t as melodic as Deacon’s; it was honeyed like Amy’s only deeper. Jon waved to a chair and moved to sit. “I hear she’s been ill.” Deacon dropped back into his chair, falling silent.

He sat down and wondered how she would handle seeing him. Clearly, Logan had warped her into believing he was the enemy. "She's recovering. She needs to rest." Jon nodded and sipped his cider.

“I cannot stay long. Might I leave a letter for her?”

“Perhaps you should come see her.”

“She’s been ill...” Jon sighed. “And I am certain she doesn’t want to see me.” He raised his eyebrow at his brother in law.

“She still has the letter you sent her and the ring.”

“The sentimentality of those concerns you, not me.” Jon shook his head. “I have been informed that Logan has turned her against me.”

He sat back and regarded the man. “How much do you know about her?”

“She’s been highly educated, can speak many languages. She’s an expert rider and archer. She also has skill with knives. She has the ability to survive and travel on her own. Logan keeps her in the Tower. She has a guard when she walks around The City. That guard reports directly to Logan. He knows what she’s doing at all times when she’s there. However, I do not have any information of what happened during and shortly after the attack on the palace.” 

He was surprised but didn't let it show in his features. "How do you know these things?"

“I sent a man to join The Order and watch over her in case Logan turns on her.” He took a long breath while Jon continued. “His name was…”

“…Daven.” He finished for Jon.

Jon looked at him. “Yes. How do you know of him?”

“His name had come up in private conversation.” He said dryly.

“I am not certain what that means.”

“It means I am not pleased about the intimate relationship he entertained with my wife.”

Deacon suddenly found the ceiling to be the most interesting thing in the world while Jon processed what that meant. He watched Jon’s eyes, much like Amy’s turn stormy and dark, yet instead of varying shades of purple his turned from warm purple to cold black. “He seduced her.” Thorin nodded.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

He had an uneasy feeling about this campaign. He had voiced it to the general and the general had agreed, but they had their orders. They were to root out a possible insurgency. The insurgents were supposed to be hiding in the canyon among the thickets of trees. He would take his battalion into the canyon and flush the insurgents out. The general and his men flanked out to guard the exits. They would not let anyone escape. 

They had been in the canyon for mere minutes before they smelled it. Smoke. It was a campfire. He waved for his man to spread out. A couple of them dismounted and slowly made their way to it. They didn't make it to the camp site before they were able to see flaming arrows that flew out of the thicket of trees. Some didn't ignite anything when they hit the ground. But many did. He shouted the order to retreat and try as they may, many were unable to command their horses to carry them out of the canyon. In a matter of moments, they had been surrounded by flames. 

It had been a trap. Men lost their mounts, the animals dealing with their own terror as they bucked and tried to flee from the enclosing inferno. Some men were trampled to death. Others died from the smoke. They had been somewhat fortunate in their demise. He was neither. He burned. But, before he burned he let out a curse for his foul twin brother. After which he could only weep. He would never see them again. He would have no way of warning them that his brother, a monster, was coming for them. 

As his life slipped from his grasp he prayed the general survived. Prayed the general would see them safe from the reach of his brother and the society he served.

-

The general was frantic to break through the flames to reach them. Yet he was unable. Some men escaped to run right into the melee he was dealing with. The Order had sent its army to engage them. His men held their own, though many died from both sides of the conflict. 

It was only when the flames produced no more wailing of men or screaming of horses that the army retreated and left the general to realize what had just happened. 

They had been ambushed, yes. But it was an assassination. The Order had just assassinated the heir to the throne. 

It took days for the embers to cool and when they did he searched for the prince. He knew it was him from his soot covered sword. 

They buried what was left of man and horse before taking up the weapon and starting the long, hard journey home. 

King Edmund dismissed him immediately after he broke the news. 

Since he had already been banished by the king, he could only return to court if the king himself sent for him. If he came of his own volition he would be executed and his lands forfeit.

With a heavy heart, he returned to his rambling keep. It was called Thundering Halls. The waves that crashed against the rocks directly behind his keep made it sound as if thunder was crashing at all hours of the day. 

While he mourned the death of the prince he was forced to wonder at the immediate and cold reaction of the king. Edmund didn't show a flicker of grief at the news. This lack of a reaction baffled him. Had someone delivered the news that one of his children had been killed he would be so stricken with grief he wouldn't have been able to act or react. Yet, the king immediately banished him.

Had the king been aware of the intentions of The Order? Had Edmund finally lost his power at the bargaining table with them? Or had Edmund simply decided to join them?

\--

Her brother had been gone for a couple of hours. She wasn't quite worried yet, but she wanted to know what was going on and she wondered how well it would go over if she sent one of her sons to go check on him. She finally decided that Amy needed to eat something. Whether she needed to or not could be debated she supposed but, Amy wasn’t in a debating position at this time. Which meant she needed to eat.

She lightly knocked on the door and when she didn’t get an answer she quietly entered the room. Amy was sleeping again. She walked over to the bed and softly touched her shoulder. “Amy…” Amy’s eyes snapped open at the touch and not her voice. Amy looked at her for a moment and slammed her eyes shut again. Dis sighed and sat for a moment to see if Amy would show signs of life. She had a remarkable ability to remain perfectly still. “I am going to bring you something to eat.” Amy barely shook her head. “I am not going to debate this with you. You need to eat.” Dis smiled when the girl turned a light shade of green. “I will bring you something to settle your stomach.” 

Dis left the room to prepare tea for Amy. By the time she returned Amy had returned to a relaxed state. Amy watched her walk into the room and take a seat. “I am not going to drink that.” Dis smiled a little. She did like that Amy had found a voice for herself. What Amy hadn’t realized yet is that there were few people that could out stubborn her. Dis found it to be a highly entertaining thought that Thorin would most certainly end up being a referee between her and Amy. Dis moved and sat on the bed near the foot of it. The movement of the bed had the desired effect and Amy slammed her eyes shut. She waited until Amy relaxed again to speak. “There are two roads we can take here. One…you can stop being stubborn and refusing my help.” Amy opened her eyes and regarded the woman as if she was a viper waiting to strike. “Or, number two, I can tell Thorin that I suspect you are pregnant and I fear for the baby considering how bad the infection had been and how you are refusing to eat.”

She watched Amy process her words. Yes, it was dirty to use Thorin against her like that. She had to. She feared it to be the truth, that Amy was indeed going to have a baby and since she has been locked away in a weird cult for the last several years she might not truly know how to care for herself and ultimately a baby. What she wasn't about to admit was that she'd rather not bring Thorin into it in such a manner. He would be impossible to live with if he was fearing for the health of his wife and unborn child. Amy slowly blinked and then moving very carefully she sat up and held out a hand for the tea. Dis smiled as she handed it to her. “I don’t remember you being so diabolical.” She said softly before sipping the tea. 

Dis smiled even brighter. “Thank you.” She chuckled a little when Amy smiled and softly laughed. She carefully left the room to get her something to eat. By the time she returned Amy had finished the tea. She let Amy pick at the food for a few minutes before she spoke again. “I think you know what I am going to ask you…”

Amy slowly blinked. “You have formulated your own answer.”

“I am only looking at how you are acting and considering the possibilities.” Amy slowly blinked and went back to picking at her food. “And you could offer information…” She stated a little irritated that Amy wasn’t speaking.

She ground her teeth at the silence that Amy gave her while she slowly picked at her food, finally finishing it and setting the dishes aside. “I suppose it is possible, however improbable.” Amy finally supplied before looking at her. She took a measured breath, considering what to say to that. Amy closed her eyes, leaning against the wall behind her. “Where is Thorin?”

She blinked. No, she didn’t get to change the subject. “What do you mean improbable?”

“Exactly that. Improbable because for the last month I have been living with high stress, adapting to a new home and life and I was recently injured. Said injury became infected which put me into fevered sleep for several days.” Dis looked at her. “We can also factor in that I have been given sleeping aides. I am not certain if you added anything to ease the pain." She slowly blinked. "Medicines take some time to leave the body. So, it is improbable that my body would decide that this is a good time to conceive and carry a child." 

“Only in the last few days have I given you sleeping medications. You could have conceived before.” Amy opened her mouth to speak. "That being said…" She gave Amy a stern look. "…you need to take exceptional care of yourself until, at the very least, you know for certain you are not." 

Amy slowly blinked and then nodded before laying her head back and closing her eyes. Dis rose to remove the dishes. She paused in the doorframe on her way out. That had been way too easy. She scowled and turned. “What medicines…you said medicines take a long time to leave the body. What have you been taking?”

\--  
He was growing frustrated. Yet another day had passed and not only did he not receive any news, she had not been returned to him. He had initially believed her to be dead, but the assassin had taken too much interest in her belongings. The assassin had gone through them, he had been looking for something and he had not found it. When the assassin left, he sent his men to follow, but carefully. What they did to the assassin mattered not. But he wanted her back, unharmed. 

So, he had spent many nights thoroughly contemplating just why she opted to run. What could have possibly been out there that interested her? He could only conclude that she had made a mistake and found herself with child. He knew well of the relationship that the assassin had with her. While he was unhappy about it, for that man should never have laid his hand on her, he was also a little relieved. She had worked with a tangible fear of men that had turned into hatred. He had driven most of the fear from her, but that had not destroyed the hatred. One cannot be ruled by their emotions. 

The assassin had been able to get close to her and that hatred dissolved. In fact, once she was past the hatred she had learned to manipulate men. She was beautiful, charming and had a very sultry voice. She could easily make men talk. It had been another blessing to him, for she had gained much information while sitting with him and the council during formal dinners. 

She talked, laughed and observed. But most of all, she remembered. She would retire before dessert and she would write him detailed reports of the information that she had gathered. He found it invaluable. 

He would have her back. Just her. If there was a child it would be destroyed. He would choose who would give her an heir. That was his duty as the leader. She was his only surviving sibling. She wouldn’t carry on the name, he would. Eventually. He scowled at that thought. That should have been Ryden’s duty, but when Ryden refused to see eye to eye with him he had made the decision that Ryden would have to be removed from the bloodline. He had found no evidence that Ryden had a woman out in the world and he spent a year looking for one. He didn’t want to risk that Ryden had a child that could remove Amaryllis from the throne. She needed to remain the crowned heir. He could easily control her.

\--

Amy regarded the woman for a moment, adopting a look of confusion on her face. “I am not certain what you are accusing me of.”

“You are a healer, you have access to many things…”

“Such as.” Amy asked dryly.

“You tell me. Stop with the long-winded answer and tell me why it is improbable.”

“I explained that to you. You seem to be reaching for something. What that is, I am not certain.”

“What have you been taking. When was the last time you took it?” Amy took a breath and closed her eyes. “Or do I have Thorin ask you?”

She opened her eyes. "I am not certain what to think of your repeated threats to drag Thorin into these conversations. And since you are doing that. Tell me what you plan to tell him about this conversation."

She scowled and blinked. Amy did have her there. Thorin wouldn’t like her accusing Amy of taking anything to prevent conception. That could turn into a blow out of an argument. And she didn’t have much to stand on since Amy was actually showing strong signs that she indeed had conceived. Dis squeezed her eyes shut. This woman flipped around to fit her needs to win an argument and she was downright maddening to talk to. She opened her eyes and looked at Amy. 

Amy was a skilled healer. She knew herbs and medicines. Her healer's bag was hanging by the door.

Dis sighed. “Obviously, I cannot say anything. Get some rest.” With that, she left the room. She would just have to find it on her own. 

\--  
Reme Ennead was a strange fellow. Men made him wary and women completely frightened him. When he was told he’d have to marry he fell into a panic attack that lasted for weeks. They had tried to soothe him with medicines and herbs, but nothing helped. When it was decided that he would not wed, he came around and returned to his reclusive and strange self. 

Reme knew the contents of every book in the Ivory Tower. He could quote them effortlessly. He knew medicines, herbs, and animals. He did not know people. He couldn’t carry a conversation. If he was expounding on a topic such as the mating habits of frogs, he could talk for hours. Ask him how he was feeling or if he wanted to visit court and he panicked. 

He was not unattractive, in the sense that he was unpleasant to look upon. He was merely…average. House Ennead was a house of stunningly beautiful people. He was average on that plane. But on intelligence, he was a god. 

He liked to hide underground. He liked to dig holes and tunnels. He had spent so much of his life underground that he had troubles seeing things in normal lighting. He would keep his living quarters dark as night and his sleeping chamber was pitch black. 

No one ever asked what he was doing, or digging. Reme was forgotten the moment he left ones’ sight. That was paradise to him.

So, Reme hid away and dug. And he wrote. Though he never shared what he wrote with others. Those were his thoughts, his discoveries. They would remain with him. Those tomes were his companions. He did not need a woman. All he needed was to dig and write and he was the happiest man alive.

\--

She waited a couple of moments after her sister-in-law left before she threw the covers off and rose. If Dis gets her way she will gain too much weight and become slow. She surveyed the room, looking for her bag. She found it on a table in the corner of the room. Her armor and Jon’s letter were resting on it. She frowned a bit. She scanned the room further and noted that her riding leather and her knives were conspicuously missing. She scowled. Her dark blue gown was visible. She sighed and walked to it and dressed.

Once she had fixed her braid she made her way out of the room. Dis scowled at her, likely for being up and about. She merely raised an eyebrow to her and made her way over to talk to the boys. She was quite pleased when they all slipped into animated story telling with each other. She even allowed herself to completely relax when Dis joined in. It was a safe and familiar feeling.

\--

He had been sent from court as soon as he was considered old enough to manage his own lands and men. It had been a brutal session of on the job training, but he finally put his lands to order and got his men in line. It had been exhausting but it had been worth it. 

Life carried on outside the court. He was content in his lands. He even considered taking a wife and having his own family. 

Then the general showed up. He was flanked by two of his children with a small host of men behind him. He barely remembered the general from court, but looking upon him in adulthood he instantly knew that this man was his true father. 

It had been a meaningful visit. Jon finally had a family. He had a father and brothers. His step mother even wished to meet him. He had been wary of that. He was living proof of her husband’s infidelity, but he would visit the Thundering Halls. He wanted to write his sister of these things, but as much as he loved her, he feared to give her too much information. He did not trust the king. The king was too closely aligned with The Order.

When word reached him that his sister was to be given in marriage to a foreign kingdom he was relieved. She would be away from the storm that was brewing. He traveled to the palace to bid her goodbye and he promised to visit her in her new home when he was able.

Time passed and the nobles divided. Some favored the care free living they had been enjoying. Open marriages, excessive drinking, and feasting. Many kept to themselves. Fearing The Order. This divide among the nobles pushed the common people to flock to The Order for guidance, for purpose.

Then it happened. News slipped free that the queen was expecting again. Unfortunately for her, it was well known that the king had no contact with her. The common people cried foul, their royals need to be held to a higher standard. Their lords followed suit, fearing rebellions. The Order soothed the masses and begged for patience for they, most assuredly, would send a strong message that her loose and degrading behavior would not be tolerated. 

The Order had become religion.

In its own way, it had been that way before, but it had never been expressly referred to as such until now. The Order had gained more power through the queens’ infidelity than it had been able to gain in years. 

A small group of lords did not care for this. They stood. They watched. And when The Order began moving their army to strategic locations they knew they had to act. 

The catalyst to war was the attack on the palace. Once they succeeded in the sacking of the palace they sealed it. They claimed authority over the throne. 

There had been no heir to claim it.

General Varen and his sons declared war. Some nobles followed, but many remained still. Intent on waiting to see if there would be a clear victor to align themselves with.

-

Jon had taken a break from his tale at that point. Jon needed to rest. He had nodded and left the brothers in the Inn.

He made his way back to the cottage. It was late, he had spent a great deal of time talking with Jon and found that he trusted both him and Deacon. They were genuine. Deacon hadn’t known Amy while she was at court, but Jon was very fond of his younger sister and Thorin could see that it pained him greatly that Logan had turned her away from him. 

Jon had conceded to stay for a bit, as their war was at a grinding halt and The Order had seemed to be letting up on pressuring them. Thorin felt that it would be a great help to Amy if she had her brother back. And not the brother that kept her as a mindless slave.

He heard them laughing before he opened the door. He smiled a little. Perhaps now that she was awake she would relax and return to her usual self as she had before they left the last town they had been in. Maybe even the usual her that he remembered her to be before they were separated. He wondered if she had noticed that he hid her leather and knives.

He stepped in, making it a point not to make eye contact with anyone while he shed his outer clothing. After a moment one of his nephews picked up the story he was telling, allowing Thorin a bit of time to consider how he was going to tell Amy that her brother was in town. He made his way in and settled next to Amy, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. She leaned into him, resting her hand on his thigh as she did so. He looked at her for a moment while she listened. She looked much better than she had when he left her. She seemed to have more color in her skin and her eyes didn't seem as dull. He furrowed his brow for a moment. Now that he thought about it, the wound in her leg was rapidly healing as well. It didn't look like it was recently a festering, infected wound. In fact, it looked several weeks into the healing process. He would have to ask about that.

Once the story was over Dis looked at her brother in question. He didn’t say anything. The very act of which is guaranteed to frustrate his sister. “Well? You’ve been gone for a while.”

"I wasn't aware that I was to report to you." He said flatly.

“No’ what I mean and you well know it.” She said stiffly. She made a face when she saw Amy smile. She did, however, hold back the comment she was about to make to Amy. She watched her brother expectantly.

He took a few moments, under Dis’s gaze, to consider telling Amy, in front of all of them, that her brother was here. Amy would have a controlled reaction in front of his nephews and it would give him and Dis the ability to circumvent her arguing or avoiding speaking of her home or Jon. “I met the rider. He seems a good man.”

Dis blinked and raised her eyebrows. “You been chatting with the man all this time?” Thorin nodded. “Well, who is he?”

He shifted a bit and squeezed Amy. “His name is Jon.” Amy immediately tensed up though he was certain that her features had remained bland. Dis blinked. “If you are feeling better…” He looked at Amy. “…perhaps in the morning you would like to see him?”

“Perhaps.” She slowly blinked. “I am weary.” Amy responded simply.

He nodded and rose. She looked up at him. He held out his hand. “We should get you back to bed then.” She slowly blinked as she took his hand and rose. He wrapped his arm around her and walked her into the bedroom. 

He let her walk into the room first and closed the door behind him. She paused a few steps in and turned to look up at him. He stepped to her and reached to start unfastening the buttons on her high-collared gown. She watched him with a curious look. He smiled at her and bent to kiss her. She blinked and returned the kiss. Her curious gaze turned to confusion as he straightened up and returned his gaze to the buttons. She watched him. “How is your leg feeling?” She blinked at the question.

“It is fine.”

He nodded. “Do you want me to stay with you while you rest?” The buttons were unfastened down to her collar. 

“You don’t need to…” She said softly, watching him. He smiled again and bent to softly kiss her. Again, she blinked as she returned the kiss. She was completely confused. And he loved it. He turned his gaze back to her buttons with a smile. She blinked several times. She brought her hands up to his wrists before he uncovered her breasts. He stopped and raised his eyes up to hers. “What is going on…?”

He looked at her in question for a moment and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his laced fingers at the small of her back. “What do you mean?”

“What is…happening here…?” She asked suddenly unsure of herself. 

He bent and softly kissed her now exposed neck. “You are weary. I am seeing you to bed.” He placed another soft kiss behind her ear then raised up and rested his forehead against hers to gaze into her confused eyes. “Is something wrong?” He asked her softly.

She rapidly blinked several times. “No…”

“We should get you to bed then.” 

She blinked several more times, again very rapidly. He wanted to smile and at least laugh a little. He had thrown her completely off kilter and she had no idea what to say or do. "Okay…"

He kissed her cheek. “Unless you are no longer feeling weary?”

She tensed up a little. “Why would I be weary?”

He blinked. What is going on? “You said you were…”

She slowly blinked and all of the sudden the confusion was gone. “Of course…yes.”

He sighed, straightening up and looking down at her. “How many excuses do you believe you can make to avoid seeing Jon?” Her eyes clouded in confusion again and she averted them for a moment as she reigned them back in. She brought her eyes back to him. He spoke again before she could. “What was that? What is going on in your head?” She shook her head. “You can’t tell me?” 

“Nothing. There really isn’t anything going on.”

“You are not thinking a single thing at this moment?” She sighed and slowly blinked. “Just tell me what you were thinking about.”

She barely just barely turned her face to the left. "I just didn't realize that you were still hanging on to me seeing Jon."

He smiled. Did she even know that she still had that tell? He wasn’t about to remind her about it. “What else were you thinking about?” She shook her head. He opted to let it go at that and pulled her against him in a hug. He felt her arms wrap around him as she rested her head on his chest. “How are you feeling?” She tensed a little. “You seem to be recovering quickly now that you are awake.” 

She relaxed again. Which was a curious thing to him. Why did she tense up after he asked after her health? "I tend to heal quickly." She said softly, her head still resting against his chest.

“That is good news.” Again, she tensed up. “Why are tensing up? Is there something wrong with me asking after your health and being happy that you heal quickly?”

"No. Of course, there isn't anything wrong with it." He sighed. She looked up at him. He looked down at her to speak. “Why does Jon want to see me? He’s at war with The Order.”

He was going to tear his hair out living with this woman. “Maybe because he loves you and is worried about you and is upset that Logan has turned you against him.”

She slowly blinked. “His men attacked the palace.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You have even admitted that your memory doesn’t make sense.” She frowned. “At least ask him. He has the right to defend himself against these accusations.”

She sighed and turned away from him. “I will consider the matter.”

He ground his teeth but accepted that as a minor victory. She moved and took a seat on the bed. He walked over to sit next to her, wrapping his arms around her. She rested against him. He kissed her hair. “I am worried that you will be taken away from me again.”

“I am not that important. People shouldn’t be chasing me down.” She wrapped her arms around him. 

“You are important. You are their queen. They are at war and need you.” She made a noise that sounded like a mix of whimpering and groaning before burying her face in his chest. 

\--

He made it into town and the inn just in time to see Jon head up the stairs. He shied back, making certain he wasn’t seen. Most interesting. Jon was here. She was most certainly here. He merely needed to find her. Best to stay out of Jon’s sight for the moment. 

He groaned and located the bar for a pint. He needed it. He wasn’t quite healed from the horrific beating that Ugly gave him. He had been fortunate that the man didn’t break any bones other than his nose. He winced at the memory, he might have died had it not been for the red head that found him and inadvertently woke him up. 

He had made his way back to a town to rest in, at least until the swelling receded. He was still heavily bruised, but those were fading as well. Now he was here. He would dig in and watch. Jon couldn’t afford to stay long. Though he considered taking Jon’s head and getting the reward that The Order was offering for it. Of course, if he delivered Jon’s head and brought Amy back, that could be a hell of a pay day. And he’d have Amy’s company for the long trip back. He smiled at that.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

She was born to one of the lesser lords of the lands, an only child. She had wanted to make her parents proud as most children do. Yet, the only note-worthy part of her was her gorgeous lavender eyes. How she had gained these lovely eyes was a mystery, neither of her parents had them. In fact, you would be hard pressed to find anyone with those eyes.

In her early teens, her mother died and the ladies of the court felt it would be better if she came to court and lived among them. Her father had reluctantly agreed, pained to let his only family leave him. Yet, once she was established at court he appealed to The Order. It didn’t take long for him to take his place among the certified members. His lands were passed to his daughter and when she wed, her husband would be the lord of them. 

She was well liked. She was simply plain. Once people were used to her unusual eyes they found that she was a very average woman. Average intelligence, average skills, and average looks. Many ladies of the court, who moved in closer circles to the king left her to the ladies that were wed to or born to less wealthy lords.

The rumors had been circulating for weeks. The king was going to choose a bride. The ladies knew that The Order had given him choices of those they felt should be queen. It merely had been left to the king to decide. And so, for weeks the ladies of the court have done everything they could to be noticed by the king. She simply was unable to stand out, of the lovely women at the court, she was merely average. Instead of trying to curry favor, she continued to work with Lady Varen, the general’s wife. 

Lady Varen handled many charities for the poor. She organized events to help feed the poor, give aid to the needy and educate children. It was time-consuming work, but she was happy to have a place.   
It had been a long day. She had been with Lady Varen, working with children. She had been in her room for mere moments before there was a solid knock on the door. She walked to it and blinked when she saw who was outside it. Her heart skipped a few beats as she waited for them to talk. They wore sapphire and gold, the colors of the king. She had been summoned by the king. She walked with the guards in terrified silence. Had she done something wrong?

She was led out to a large balcony that overlooked gardens. The moon was shining bright, leaving little reason to have torches lit. He rose and looked at her. She blinked and curtsied, keeping her eyes down. She heard him give a light chuckle. “Please relax. Will you talk with me for a bit?”

She blinked and looked at him in utter surprise. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

He gave her an easy smile. And waved for her to take a chair. “Wine?” She blinked and nodded after she sat. She remained speechless as she watched the handsome king pour her a glass of wine and bring it to her.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“You are welcome.” He sat and sipped his wine. She forced herself to look out to the garden as he was. She was a little frightened and wanted to ask him what he wanted. But, one simply does not question the king. She almost melted in relief and even allowed herself to sip the wine when he finally spoke. “You spend a great deal of time working with Lady Varen. Correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You need not be so formal. Please call me Edmund.”

“Of course…Ed…mund…” It felt strange to use his name. He smiled at little when she hesitated with his name. 

“I asked Lady Varen about you. She has a very high opinion of you.” She blinked and nodded, unsure where this was leading. She turned to watch him as he spoke. “I trust her opinion, as I trust her husband.” She nodded again. He turned and smiled at her. She blinked and smiled back. He looked at her for a moment before turning his gaze back out to the garden. She allowed herself to relax and sip her wine. “The rumors are still loud about me wanting to marry, are they not?”

“Yes. They are.” 

He nodded and sipped his wine. “I believe I have chosen, but I am not certain of my choice. Perhaps you can help.”

He wished her opinion on someone. With that realization, she took a long breath. “Of course. How might I help?”

He smiled and looked at her. “I am not certain my choice wishes to be wed to me.” She frowned a bit, who wouldn’t want to marry him? He chuckled a little at her reaction, which caused her cheeks to flush. “What were you thinking?”

She rapidly blinked, her face now red hot. “I cannot imagine anyone would deny you…” She stammered.

He laughed. She blushed again. “Would you? Deny me?”

She blinked. “No…of course not.” She was suddenly confused.

“Lovely. Thank you for speaking with me.” The guards advanced as she rose and she curtsied before being escorted back to her room. 

The next morning, she yawned as she dressed. She had tossed and turned all night. Had she upset the king? She was so abruptly dismissed. She finished dressing and found Lady Varen waiting for her. She smiled. “We have been summoned to court.” Her heart stopped. She walked with Lady Varen, not knowing if she should even speak. “It is strange. Everyone was summoned. I wonder if the king had decided…” She shrugged. Not trusting her voice, but happy that she wasn’t in trouble. 

She was allowed to be seated with Lady Varen as the general was with the king. As soon as the doors opened the room fell silent. When the king entered the entire room rose to their feet in unison. She watched the king. He was dressed in his traditional black clothing. It was studded with sapphires. His golden crown boasted a singular sapphire. The jewel made his eyes dance. He smiled genially at the audience. The general trailed him carrying a cloth bundle. The king took his seat, the general remained standing at his side. He watched his people as they returned to their seats. 

"I have decided that I wish to marry." His silky voice traveled over the room. The murmuring was instant as the crowd shifted. Some gasped, some wondered who and a few women even sat up higher. "Please remain seated." He said over the crowd before he easily rose to his feet. Women smiled and batted their eyes at him.

He began walking to the crowd and as he turned and moved closer and closer to her she could feel her eyes getting wider and wider until he paused and crouched in front of her, holding his hand out to her. “Will you marry me, Raym?" She felt the color drain from her face and suddenly her heart was racing. She nodded. And he smiled a soft, kind smile.

“Yes…I am…honored.” She managed to squeak out. She took his hand and he rose, pulling her with him. The general approached and offered him the bundle. Edmund shook out the cloak and draped it over her shoulders. He smiled as he clasped it into place. It was a light cloak boasting his nine-pointed star on the back.

“We will meet later to discuss arrangements.” He spoke softly. She nodded. He kissed her cheek before turning to head out of the room, trailed by the general. 

She turned to Lady Varen, who hugged her and whispered to her. “Congratulations…let’s get you to safety before the ladies descend on you to want to be your ladies in waiting…” They made their way out of the room, flanked by the king’s guard.

\--

He didn’t like the idea that he was about to steal something. But he had to. They didn’t see what he did. The information contained in the very tome he was going to steal was not to be in their hands. He could keep it safe. 

His years were gaining on him and for that, he had not been concerned. Most considered him dead already. He had receded into his tunnels and when he stopped making his presence known they declared him dead. They had been relieved to be rid of him. He was a strange man that was a blight on their house.

Taking a large breath, he snatched up the book and ran, picking his way back to his hidden tunnels. They would never find him. Or it. Now he would consider on whether or not he trusted anyone with the information that he had. Perhaps it should die with him. 

Once Reme made it back to his bed room he set the book down. He must wrap it, somehow find a way to keep it preserved. It was history and he stole it, but it needed to be cared for and preserved. 

\--

They had sat in silence for a few moments before he finally looked at her. “You should rest.” She slowly nodded and moved to lay down. She didn’t move underneath the covers, she was still in her heavy gown. He leaned over her to kiss her. She returned the kiss. “Do you want me to stay?” He asked softly. She nodded, closing her eyes. He stretched out next to her. She curled to him and eventually rested her head on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close.

She closed her eyes and listened to his steady heartbeat. She was trying to clear her head. General Varen had sent for her. Logan had sent people after her. Jon was here now. She wouldn’t have a choice.   
She would have to go home. Yet she was worried, her sister-in-law had voiced it. There was the possibility. She had stopped drinking the herbal and mushroom mix when she was settled comfortably in Sadie and Carl’s home. This was horrible timing. And she wrestled with it. She had no solid evidence that she was expecting. She could force the matter and ensure that she didn’t have a child. Yet she found she couldn’t bring herself to do it. There was something in her that knew if she did that this would be the largest regret she would have in her life. She knew it would haunt her and eat at her for the rest of her days.

She wanted to scream and cry. She ran away because she wanted to get away from it all. She was done playing the game. She wanted a life. She wanted babies. Here and now she could have them.   
What if she named Jon her successor?

She blinked. Would it work? Would she be free if she gave Jon the throne? She scowled. He was at war with The Order. No. She cannot give it to him. He was the enemy. She closed her eyes.   
Two months ago, the world made sense. Now, when she finally tried to leave it behind it became a muddy puddle of lies that had grabbed her ankle and held on to her.

“What is wrong?” She blinked at his voice.

“Nothing.” 

“Something. Why won’t you talk to me?” She closed her eyes. She wanted to, but she had forgotten how. 

"I don't know." He squeezed her, moving his hand to rest on her hip. "I can tell you a story. I can translate most languages, read maps. I can pick apart strategy, hide in the shadows…" She sighed. “…but I have forgotten how to talk about me. There isn’t a need to talk about me. My thoughts and feelings aren’t of fact; therefore, they need not be voiced.”

“Is that what you have been told?”

“Yes. It is how I have lived.”

“With Logan?”

“Yes.”

“I am not Logan.”

“I know.”

“What is wrong?”

She took a long breath at his question. He was still calm; his heartbeat had remained steady. “I don’t want to go back.” She said it knowing that it would raise questions. Questions that out of habit she will deflect. She took another breath and told herself that she would try to answer all of his questions without being sarcastic, facetious or flat out redirecting.

He stroked her hair softly. “If you go back, where will you go?”

“I don’t know.” She was fighting to not be tense. She was fighting to just answer, honestly. “I don’t know who is lying anymore. I no longer have a clear idea of who my enemies are.”

She felt him take a breath. “Will you listen to Jon’s side of the issue? Why he went to war?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

He squeezed her again. “Will you try?” 

“Yes.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Where did you get the strange armor?” Her smile faded a little and her mind immediately produced a dismissive and flippant response. She held it in.

“It was commissioned for me by The Order. It was initially designed to prevent my ribs from breaking in the event I was thrown from a horse. But it ended up being the only armor that I would wear, if I wear anymore it removes any functionality I have. I do not have the strength to be buried in it.” He softly stroked her back. 

“Dark glass is hard to find.”

“It’s made in Haxen.” She shrugged. His hand stopped moving. “It had been a part of the trade agreements that came with me.” She raised up on her elbow to look at him. He moved one arm behind his head, leaving the other wrapped around her as he watched her. “Dark glass cannot be contaminated by anything else. If it is, then it will not set up or cure properly. After every production firing, they have to burn out all excess and clean the ash, soot, and debris. This process also is done before they begin production again. Burn it all out, clean the ash and soot and then they start the firing. It is very costly to produce and because it is so temperamental nothing else is produced where they fire it. It is interesting to watch the process, but they don't fire it often. Especially now that we are at war." He gave her a small smile. "Sorry." 

“Why do you apologize? You haven’t done anything wrong.” She slowly blinked and nodded. “Your knives?”

"A Smith in The Order created them for me." He nodded. "And you hid them." He nodded again. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He turned to meet her lips. She smiled and moved to settle her head on his chest again and closed her eyes. 

“Shall we sneak out in the morning before my sister wakes to speak with Jon?”

She smiled. “Yes.” He chuckled and squeezed her.

“If I don’t let you rest she will likely demand we keep the door open. So, rest…” She chuckled and kissed his neck before settling her head back on his chest. She closed her eyes, forcing herself not to think. It was pointless to consider what she would do until she had heard Jon out.

\--

She woke to find herself alone. She could smell dinner and was surprised that Dis didn't wake her. She inhaled again and found that she wasn't remotely interested in eating. If this was pregnancy she was amazed that women wanted to do this. She willed it to go away and when it finally did she worked herself out of her gown with the absolute minimum of movements needed to accomplish the task. Once her gown was dumped on the floor she concentrated on going back to sleep.

She woke to someone softly stroking her hair. She opened her eyes. He smiled at her. “Dis is worried that you will waste away to nothing.” She took a careful breath, if she didn’t move too much she wouldn’t feel sick, right?

“I am certain I won’t.” She said softly, carefully.

He leaned to kiss her forehead. He frowned. “You are warm…are you feeling ill?”

She took a measured breath. “Yes and no.” He blinked. Not certain what to make of her answer. “I think I should go back to sleep.” He traced her eyebrow and gave her a soft smile. He nodded and kissed her before rising to leave the room. 

After a few moments, Dis slipped in with tea. She groaned. “What? You didn’t think I would let you skip a meal?”

She shoved herself into a sitting position and sipped the tea. “I am going to go crazy if this doesn’t go away.” She muttered into her cup.

“You are a healer. What have you given to your patients?” 

“I can’t say I have had to counter this before. I didn’t deal with many…patients…in this position.”

"Well, perhaps it will pass quickly."

“What have you told him?”

Dis regarded her for a moment. “I have not said anything.” She nodded. Dis slipped out of the room. 

It took longer than she had expected for the tea to settle her stomach enough for her to risk getting dressed. Once dressed she worked her braid free and let her fall down her back. Then she changed her mind and tied it into a pony tail. She gathered up the tea cup and left the room to join them for dinner. Thorin rose to seat her. He raised an eyebrow in question. She opted to ignore it.

Once she was settled with soup as she really wasn’t hungry she braced herself for an onslaught of questions. 

“Amy?”

Dis was going to start in on her. “Yes?”

“You had said that your brothers were presumed dead.”

“I did. And they are.”

“One is here.”

“Yes. Many rumors circulate around Jon’s death. So, many presume he is dead.”

“And Logan is the head of The Order.”

“Yes. The identity of the leader is not common knowledge.”

“You probably have told me, but humor me. Why are you crowned heir?”

She kept emotion from her face and eyes. “Jon’s father is General Varen. Logan abdicated his claim to the throne when he took his vows to The Order.” Dis nodded. This information was not new. Dis was winding up to something. She took a breath. "The palace is sealed. A small group of certified members of The Order governs it at this time."

“At whose direction?”

“Logan oversees the committee.”

“Amy, why do you tolerate that?”

 

“I have no heir. I have not named a successor. If I move to claim the throne they can assassinate me and take it. I believe that is the only reason that Logan keeps me alive.”

“Is there something else they are looking for? Are you in possession of something?”

“Not that I am aware of.”

“I suppose it is fair to say you aren’t aware of many things.” Amy shrugged. She wasn’t going to take the bait.

"It has been years since I have seen Jon. I do not have a memory of Deacon before his appearance here. House Varen was not well loved at court.”

Thorin spoke. “Jon has adopted his father’s name, but he has kept his own four pointed star.” She nodded. 

“Why does Jon’s have four points and Edmund’s had nine?” Dis asked. Amy blinked. What did that have to do with anything?

“I do not know why Jon chose the four-pointed star. I have not asked. But my father ‘s house flew the nine-pointed star. The number nine was equated to perfection.” Dis chuckled then snorted in an attempt to stifle her laughing. “Very well, is it easier to believe that my family name literally translates to nine?” Dis chuckled more, closing her eyes. 

“Family name?” She managed to get out in between her giggles. 

“Yes. Our family name. The name of our house.”

“What is it?”

Amy blinked and looked at Dis. She had assumed they knew. “Ennead. I am from House Ennead.”

“What is the crest of The Order?” Thorin asked while Dis tried to contain herself.

“A diamond outlined in purple overlaid on silver.”

“And House Ennead was a blue and gold nine-pointed star on black.” She looked at him and nodded.

“Yes. Those were the colors of House Ennead.” Dis had composed herself. “Better?” Amy asked looking at the woman. 

“Be nice or I will call you flower nine.” Amy blinked. “Did no one call you that when you were a child?”

Amy shook her head. “No one dared. My father was king.”

“So, they did, but you didn’t hear it.” Amy rolled her eyes at Dis.

Dis chuckled and rose to start clearing the dishes. Amy rose to assist. Dis was about to stop her but thought better of it. The men removed themselves, likely to smoke while they cleaned up. Dis waited until they were well out of ear-shot. “Please don’t start again…” Amy said before she could speak.

She took a breath. “Amy…I am worried for you. I am worried that you might not know how to care for yourself and eventually a baby.”

“One step at a time Dis. Step one. I do know how to take care of myself. I am rather good at it, in fact. Two…if…IF…I am going to have a baby, we will deal with that as it comes. Stressing out about it doesn’t help you or me it just makes the entire situation harder to live in.”

"Why do you say if? You have such a certainty…"

Amy blinked. “I don’t. I don’t know.”

Dis scowled at her. “There is something. I keep thinking back to your statement on medicines.”

“Leave it alone.”

“No. I only want to help, but I need to know what is going on. And the reality of it is, I am very worried about you. I know he is too.”

Amy scowled. Dis glared at her. "I spent a great deal of time traveling with a partner. Another employed by The Order. I wasn't interested in returning to my brother and having to explain a child." Dis blinked. "Thorin knows I traveled with him and he knows the extent of the relationship."

“How have you not become…”

“I know how to create a mixture of mushrooms."

She nodded. “When was the last time you…took…it?”

“Before I saw Thorin again.”

Dis blinked. “But…what if…the baby isn’t…”

“No. I can assure you that is not possible.”

Dis sighed. “I should take a look at your wound when we finish here.”

“I can take care of it.” She sighed again but remained quiet while they finished cleaning. 

\--


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

Amy slipped away as soon as the cleaning was finished. She retreated into the room that she had been sharing with Thorin and sat down. Her thoughts and feelings were in chaos. The closer you are the less you see, right? Was that what had happened to her? Had she merely been so close that she couldn’t see what actually was happening? Did she really believe her own words when she had said that Logan would kill her if he had no use for her? She didn’t even know where that had come from, but it had slipped out of her and it felt…right. 

She needed to get away and talk to Logan. He would clear this up. All of this had a simple explanation. She sighed. 

She had agreed to talk with Jon. Her memory had shown her that Jon's men not only attacked the palace but guarded the queen. They had murdered her father. Stabbed in the back. Try as she may she could no longer conjure that memory up. In fact, she had troubles remembering anything from her attack to when she woke in the Ivory Tower. She woke not long after her attack. It had still been spring time; the lilacs were still in bloom. She frowned and turned her hand up, the silver scar looked back at her. Her hand had been completely healed when she woke. Her throat hadn’t been bruised.   
Everything had been healed. She had begun riding lessons mere days after she woke. Beyond that, Logan had informed her that the palace had been emptied and sealed. This made no sense to her. She spent weeks even months through that spring and summer learning how to ride a horse. 

How had all of that been possible in such a short span of time? Had she lost time? 

She laid down and closed her eyes. If she went home, she might not ever see him again. She sighed. 

She heard movement in the room. Her eyes snapped opened and focused. He was tending to the fire. She had dozed off and let it die down. Once he completed his task he rose to his full height and began to undress. She remained silent as she watched him. 

He paused before removing his trousers and looked at her. She slowly blinked. He smirked. Then nausea hit her. She closed her eyes and took a long breath. She concentrated, forcing her stomach to settle. The bed slightly moved, making the matter worse. When she felt that she had it under control again she opened her eyes and started a little to find that he had moved to sit by her and was watching her, concern etched into his features. She smiled and he raised an eyebrow. She inwardly sighed. She would make him ask. And she wasn't certain what she would answer. She didn't know what the hell was going on with nausea. She assumed it was from the infection. Maybe she was hoping that was the case, considering the circumstances that surrounded her. She reached for him. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her up against him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She rested against him as her emotions warred within her. She was happy and safe here with him. Yet, she knew something would have to be done about her home and she knew deep down that resolution would require her to return. He finally released her and looked at her, with a question in his eyes. She offered a small smile before shrugging. “Stomach has been bothering me…” She said softly letting her hands slide free from around his neck to rest on his chest. He nodded a little as he reached to unbutton her gown. She hated these damn gowns. Heavy wool that covered her from neck to toe. Once the buttons were unfastened he carefully shoved the gown off her shoulders. She pulled her arms free and rose to let it drop to the floor. He slipped his arms around her and pulled her into bed with him, the movement suddenly reviving her lurking nausea. She remained still as he covered them and settled himself. She was glad when he finally settled and the world was still again. She was able to shove the feeling back down, but she opted to not move again. She was up against his warm body and could feel his steady breathing lulling her to sleep. 

Sleep granted her an escape from nausea, however, it came back full force when she woke. She was grateful that she was alone as she worked through the misery of dry heaves. She dragged herself back into the bedroom feeling completely wrung out. She was extremely grateful that he had not returned while she was being sick. She pulled her gown on, yawning widely as she buttoned it. She took a few minutes to brush out and braid her hair. She left the room to find that she was the only one awake. And she was alone. She looked around. Where did he go? His cloak was gone. She shrugged and assumed that he had gone ahead of her to speak with Jon. She wrapped her hair and face up in her scarf and threw her cloak on. Once she stepped into her boots she silently slipped out and made her way to the Inn. The cold breeze pushed her to a jog. She was completely unaware that she had caught someone’s attention and before long she had slipped into the Inn. She shook the cold off and made her way to the stairs and went up to them. At the top of the stairs, she pushed the scarf back from her face and let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. She began walking to the room she recalled Deacon to be in, mindful to remain quiet as the hour was still rather early. As she passed the second door in the hallway it snapped open and before she could turn her head she had been grabbed from behind, her mouth had been covered as an arm that had the give of an iron bar slammed around her stomach to lift her off her feet to swing her into the opened room.

-

He returned with his sister. She had wanted to visit the baker and as he had been awake he went with her as opposed to waking his nephews. He also wanted to drill her about what was going on with Amy. It had taken the length of the walk there and back for his sister to finally admit what she felt was wrong with Amy, that indeed there wasn’t anything wrong with Amy, she was just suffering from morning sickness. He had fallen silent at that news. This certainly complicated matters. Her home needed her to return and he would eventually have to deal with the threat that lurked in his. They weren’t going anywhere for the rest of the winter and most certainly by then they would know if she was expecting. They simply couldn’t be intimate. That idea made him groan. It was hard enough having let her sleep last night, but for the rest of the winter? 

They slipped into the cottage and stripped out of their outwear. He would wake her and wait for her stomach to settle before taking her to see Jon. Quietly he made his way into the bedroom and scowled to find the bed not only empty but made. He noted that her gown was missing and walked out to see that he had missed the fact that her cloak and scarf were also missing. He growled to himself and stomped into his boots and made his way out of the cottage. He barely registered his sister staring after him.

-

Terror ripped through her the moment she was grabbed. She didn’t attempt to scream. Screaming was useless. It could make her attacker panic. She was off her feet, so she didn’t have any leverage to even attempt to free herself. The door was closed before she was released. She blinked at being released. She slowly turned and gasped. 

His nose had clearly been broken since she had last seen him and there was still some discoloration around his eyes. He smiled at her and reached to touch her face. She scowled and stepped away from him. “Why are you here?” She hissed. He raised an eyebrow and shrugged.

“Figured you’d get lonely.” She gave him a dry look and he chuckled. “A bar keep told me that you went ahead and married a smith.” She slowly blinked and he raised his eyebrow. “Really…well then you most certainly need my company. Don’t you?” She scowled and he laughed, albeit softly.

“No…I don’t need your company…” He quickly closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around her meaning to lean down to kiss her. She wiggled out of his arms and moved out of his reach, careful to not back herself into a corner. She scowled at him again. “Did The Order follow you?”

He smirked as his eyes followed her and when she stopped moving they slowly roved over her, taking in what she was wearing. He waved a dismissive hand. “Dead.”

“One of them caught up to me.” He blinked. Surprised. “He managed to shoot me.”

Again, he quickly closed the gap between them. “Where were you hit?”

She scowled and took a step back, trying to stay out of his reach. “My leg…it is fine. I am merely pointing out that you were followed.” 

“What is this? Why are you backing away from me?”

“Don’t change the subject. You were followed.”

"Yes yes…I was followed and you are backing away from me. You cannot possibly be trying your hand as a good little smiths wife." He chuckled. "Does your Smith know what you do for a living?"

“Why not? You knew I wanted to escape.”

He regarded her a slight smirk on his face. She figured he assumed she was just playing hard to get. “Yes. I know you wanted to escape, but I didn’t envision that you would marry the first brute you ran across and would actively attempt to be a good little woman.”

She frowned. She had enough of this. She moved to walk past him. He chuckled and wrapped his arm around her to sweep her up and swing her around to drop her on the bed. She landed on her behind and bounced before he planted his hands on either side of her, his face up close to hers. She attempted to scoot away from him, intent on removing herself from the bed and making it out of the room. He smiled as he watched her try to move away from him. He took a breath and planted his knee on the bed pinning her skirt to it with his body weight. She frowned at him when she realized she wasn’t moving. “Release me, Daven.”

He leaned in, bringing his face close to hers. She leaned back, away from him. He followed her movements, shifting his weight enough for her to yank her skirt free and scoot back until she dropped onto the floor with a thud. He lightly chuckled as he watched her while he moved over the bed and placed his feet on the floor. She gained her feet and hastily backed away from him until her back hit the door.

-

He muttered curses all the way to the Inn. He would have to somehow impress it upon her that she cannot just run off on her own. She needed an escort. She had been wounded, then had fallen ill and now…he cursed more at the thought that she could be pregnant and be wandering around out in this cold weather on her own. Did that woman have no sense? He made it into the inn and went to the stairs. He had hoped beyond hope that she was here. Though he couldn’t imagine where else she would be. 

A thump behind a closed door made him pause. His eyebrow raised up when something bumped into the door. He shook his head. Not his business. He resumed walking when the door in question suddenly opened and rapidly slammed closed after a blur of white hair and black cloak spun out. He scowled and turned in time to watch her lose her grip on the door handle and stumble back when the door was whipped open. 

-

She was about to cuss the arrogant bastard out when she realized that she had not fallen to the floor or hit a wall. Someone caught her. Instinctively she attempted to move from the new grasp on her. When she heard his voice, she groaned. Could this possibly get worse? “What is happening here?”

Daven leaned in the doorframe smirking at her. She regained her balance and looked at Thorin. “A horrible misunderstanding…” He raised his eyebrow at her and looked at the man in the doorframe. Daven immediately lost the smirk and slightly bowed.

"My mistake. I thought she was someone else." He retreated into his room and closed the door before Thorin could respond. Instead, he turned his gaze back to Amy, who clearly was upset.

He took a long breath to steady his emotions. He had no idea what he just witnessed, but whatever it was had upset her. "You are not to go anywhere alone." He said in an even tone. She blinked. Then scowled. "I don't even want to think about what could have happened here." She ground her jaws together. “I mean it, Amy. Especially now…” He stopped. She raised her eyebrows. “…we will discuss your condition when we get back to the cottage.” She blinked. Before she could speak he took her arm and walked her to Deacons room. She opted to remain silent as he knocked. 

Deacon opened the door and smiled. It was a short-lived smile that died when he saw the sour look on Amy’s face. “Not a morning person, Your Majesty?” Deacon finally spoke and then smiled again. She scowled at him and then noticed him. Jon was sitting by the window. Deacon moved out of the way so her and Thorin could enter the room.

Jon offered a small smile. “You are upset. Why?”

She scowled again. Did they not know that Daven was here? Did Daven know Jon was here? What would Daven do? Would he try to take Jon back to Logan? She had just assumed Daven was here for her. She blinked a couple of times. “Misunderstanding with another patron here.”

Jon knit his eyebrows together and looked past her to Thorin. Then back to her. “I presume all has been taken care of.”

She shrugged. She would deal with Daven. She didn’t know where to start. “You are far from home.” She started softly, unsure of what the tone of the conversation would be.

Jon nodded as Deacon took a seat. He waved to another chair for her. She didn’t move. “I am. Deacon sent me word that he had located you.”

“Were you also sent word that people have been following me?”

Jon nodded. "Yes. A couple members of The Order and the assassin have been killed in pursuit of you." She lowered her eyes at the mention of the assassin. Jon noticed. "You knew the assassin. This I am aware of." She snapped her eyes up to him. Jon held her gaze for a moment and for that moment she felt as if he could see right through her. She finally looked away from him. He slowly blinked.

“What makes General Varen believe that I would listen to him?”

Jon took a breath. "He has hope. Honestly, the handful of us that know you are alive aren't sure what to do with that information."

“You tortured members of The Order. That is how word got out that I was alive?”

Jon shook his head. “No. I had an informant. We suspected that The Order spared you when they attacked the palace. To be honest it took longer to confirm you lived than it did for us to confirm that Logan had ascended to heading up The Order. It took over a year for us to catch the idea what you were indeed alive and another year for us to get someone inside to confirm it.”

“I lived in the Tower. I walked into The City every morning. That I survived was not a well-guarded secret.”

“You were not seen for over a year.”

“Nonsense Jon. I walked The City every morning after the attack, the lilacs were still in bloom. It wasn’t until summer time that Logan had officially declared you and General Varen enemies of The Order. In response to your attack on the palace, which Logan had sealed.”

Jon’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion as he looked at her. “Kitsune…” She frowned as she looked at him. “…The palace was sealed the autumn following the attack. The Order spent the previous spring and summertime disposing of the bodies and cleaning it. The following spring, a year after the attack, The Order formally claimed rulership over the Haxen throne, citing the fact that Edmund had not named a successor. Then they declared House Varen their enemy.” He paused, giving her a moment to consider his words. “Two years after the attack, early in that summer General Varen heard a rumor that you had been seen in The City. It made sense that they would keep you alive. So we sent someone in as an informant. Someone who could confirm that you lived and someone who could keep watch on you in the event that The Order attempted to assassinate you.”

“You had an informant within?” 

“Yes.” He took a breath. “The Order has a long reach and a remarkable memory. We needed to find someone that would not be linked to those of us who had been declared enemies of The Order. So. I sent an assassin, knowing full well that The Order would welcome him. We trusted that he would supply us information.”

She slowly blinked, bringing her eyes to focus on him. “And what kind of information did he supply?”

Jon shrugged. “He verified that you were alive and eventually he was able to verify that Logan was ordering assassinations.”

“Where is he now?”

“Dead. I told you about that.” Deacon chimed in with his musical voice. 

Amy carefully nodded. If Daven worked for Jon, why didn’t they know he was in the same building as them? More baffling to her was his timeline. If he was correct she had lost a year of her memory. It was frustrating to her because it made sense. She had no recollection of the entire process behind her hand healing. She woke to her hand having a nasty but healed scar on it. Yet another year had passed before she had gotten Jon’s letter. Logan had questioned her relentlessly after he discovered the letter Jon had sent to her. It was only after Logan was convinced that she wasn’t in constant communication with Jon that he finally had told her the story of what happened in the palace and why Jon was their enemy. Her mind kept going back to Daven. Why was he there? The thought effortlessly sprung into her mind. Daven was here to kill Jon. Daven had to know that Jon was here, at the very least he had to realize that a messenger from General Varen…wait. Did Daven know who Deacon was? Even she hadn’t known who Deacon was. There was no way that Daven could have predicted that Jon would be here. Clearly, Daven wasn't in contact with Jon. It struck her and she knew that she had barely managed to keep her expression bland. 

Daven had been sent to kill her.

That had to be it. Even Daven had confirmed that members of The Order had followed. Logan had given the command, he sent men to make certain Daven followed through. Panic welled up in her. Did he know? Had someone sent word that she married? Or was it merely convenient now that she had run away? Logan could have her killed far from their borders and make up any story he wanted. She barely registered Jon watching her. She was so far absorbed into her own thoughts. Her mind raced to find a way to get to Daven alone. She needed to talk to him. To understand what was happening. But was that wise? Daven was faster and stronger than her. She was unarmed and hindered by the heavy, long gown she wore. That was assuming she would be able to slip out from under Thorin’s watchful gaze. Dis had shared her fears with him and now she would be hard pressed to have any time unsupervised.

She jumped when Thorin’s hands gently rested on her shoulders. Jon raised an eyebrow. She slowly exhaled, relaxing. She needed to redirect their attention while she contemplated what to do about Daven. She slowly blinked and let her gaze fall past Jon as her head tilted to the left. “Your men were in the palace. I saw them.”

Jon sat back regarding her. “At the request of King Edmund, I supplied guards for the queen.” She let her eyes move back to him. 

“I saw your men attack and kill the queen.”

“You saw Logan’s men attack while wearing my star. The Order’s army had us engaged far in the north, to ensure we couldn’t reach the palace in time.” Jon watched her while Thorin listened. They both had caught something amiss with her behavior. She hadn’t immediately countered Jon’s assertion that his men didn’t attack the palace. “What were you thinking of, just a moment ago?” Amy frowned at him. “What has captured your thoughts that you have stopped listening?”

“I am listening.”

“You are hearing. Where did your mind wander to after Deacon declared Daven killed?” Her eyes darted in the direction of Daven’s room before she was able to stop them. Jon took a breath and rose to his full height and turned to Deacon. “Stay here with her.” Deacon nodded.

Amy frowned. “Where are you going and why in the world do you think I need to be looked after?”

Jon closed the distance between them with a couple of steps. “Stay here with Deacon.” Jon looked past her to Thorin. She could feel him scowling behind her. 

“No. Not unless you tell me what the hell you are doing.”

Jon looked down at her and gave her a small smile. “I wish to speak with your husband.” She frowned as he kissed her cheek before stepping past her. She watched them both exit the room.


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

House Ennead seemed to be a blessed house. They had wealth and with their great wealth came decadence. Beauty was paramount and if you did not have beauty, you did not gain the attention of Ennead.   
For many generations, The Order watched them.

Their rise to power began with systematic seducing. They began to marry strategically and if their proposal of marriage was refused by a maiden’s father, they knew it would turn out to be forced. For they did not offer a proposal without certain guarantees in place. The fair maiden would be forced to confess her indiscretions to her father who in turn would be forced to accept the initial proposal to save not only his but his daughters reputation. 

As much as The Order wanted to break the house and destroy the name, they had the strongest following with the people. The commoners near worshipped these fair-haired beauties. 

They had done so well with their campaign that before the first purge you were hard pressed to find a house that had not been touched by House Ennead in some way. They had even made it to the royal line. The king and queen had despaired that they were not able to have more than one child. Their only child, their crowned heir was a daughter. The monarchy, The Order, in fact, all citizens of Haxen knew that the princess would end up marrying into House Ennead. It was taken in stride when it happened and when the king and queen passed House Ennead was quick to advertise that they were now the royal house. Gone was the sigil of past royals. The palace now flew the nine-pointed star of Ennead. The star of perfection.

House Ennead was the main reason behind the first purge. The Order needed to cull House Ennead before they overtook the entire kingdom. They were close already. The Order knew that the king and queen would have to be purged, so they watched their children. 

The Order was upset when no daughters were born to the monarchy. A daughter gave them the ability to remove House Ennead easily. As they watched they saw that the sons proved to be as decadent as House Ennead was known for. It was spreading far and fast. Haxen was turning into a haven of overindulgence and adultery at the expense of the common people. 

The middle son of the Royals gained the interest of The Order. He was easy mannered and seemed to be a genuinely caring man. The most intelligent of the lot he also made it a point to stay away from the gluttonous behaviors that his parents and brothers were known for. He fulfilled his duties above and beyond what was expected and all he asked in return was to spend time with his close friend. A farmers' daughter. It was apparent their love for each other was pure and genuine. They would have done anything for the other. This was the knowledge that The Order needed. Through his love for her, they would be able to control Edmund and cut the power that House Ennead carried.

-

She moved to the door the moment her brain registered that it was closed. Before she could get it open a hand planted on it, ensuring that she would not be able to open it. 

“Move.”

“Jon told me to keep watch on you.”

“You regard me as queen?”

“Of course. Even with that, I am not letting you out.”

She groaned and turned to look up at Deacon, who was resting his body weight on the arm and hand that was planted on the door. He smiled. She wanted to knock his teeth into the back of his neck. Instead, she lamely shoved him aside and moved to plop into the chair that Jon just vacated.

-

Jon kept his voice soft. Concern clouded his features. “Is this normal? This lack of focus from her?”

Thorin took a long breath. “I believe that she has learned to use misdirection to gain the information she wants and keep others misinformed.”

“How do you feel about us wanting her to return? We are at war.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Obviously, I don’t want her to go into a war. Yet, I am not in the position I was when she was given to me. I do not have the means and the ability to protect her as I could have then.”

“You have your own concerns that you must deal with in your home. What will she do then?” Jon watched him process those words. “What if you have children?”

“While I am away she can remain here with my sister. What do you suppose Logan would do if she had a child?”

“Logan is of The Order. For many generations, The Order has chosen the royal bloodlines.”

“He would not just let her go?”

“She is the rightful heir. The Order will not recognize your marriage since you are not of Haxen or The Order.”

“Even though a treaty exists and she is mine?”

“The king that made that treaty is dead. You were not formally married before the king was killed.”

“And if we had been? What would have happened if she had returned as my wife? A princess of Erebor?”

“That would have been up to Logan as that could have played out either way.”

“He sends her back to us terrified at what she had seen so she gladly names any successor that he puts in front of her…”

"Or he has her killed to ensure the throne will be vacated and he can give you any story he likes to preserve the treaty." Jon paused. "These things no longer matter. What matters is what happens going forward. There is a large group that is opposed to The Order. Yet nothing truly unifies us. General Varen can only lead so much, his reputation suffered a great deal because of the queen. We need Amy to come home, claim her place and formally declare war on The City and The Order. She will be what brings everyone together under General Varen's lead."

“And either you win and she remains queen or you lose and she dies.”

Jon nodded. “She can stay here and you both can worry every day about who will come for her. You can worry who will hunt your children. Or you can trust that when the dust settles in both your home and ours she will return to you.”

Thorin's jaw set as he stared at Jon. "Come spring I intend to follow up on a message I received from my home. If she wishes to return at that time, I will understand." He ground the words out. "Of course, one thing we are taking for granted in this conversation…" Jon raised an eyebrow. "…is that she will decide to join you and not return to The Order." Jon watched him for a moment with an inscrutable look on his face. Thorin assumed that Jon would counter and was surprised when Jon finally nodded and turned to reenter the room.

-

The ceremony and feast had been straight of fantasy. The food, the wine, the jewels and the gowns. She had been given anything and everything she had asked for. She kept thinking she would wake up and it would all be over.

But then it was over. The reality of the matter hit her. She was queen. 

It was a lot of work. She had no idea of the things that would be expected of her and in the beginning, she had heavily relied on Lady Varen for counsel and support. With time she moved away from her and spent more and more time with her ladies in waiting. Those ladies were less on work and more on leisure. A lifestyle she had envied for a long while and found that she preferred.

She had been disappointed in Edmund. She had thought they would be close and he would be more affectionate. While he was very kind to her she found that he kept an emotional distance from her. They shared a room, but he would retire late in the evening and he was usually gone by the time she rose in the morning. Their intimate relationship was awkward and she was afraid to ask her ladies in waiting about the matter. She had considered seeking out Lady Varen on the matter but found herself to be ashamed that she had allowed such a good friend of hers drift away. She didn't even help Lady Varen any longer. She merely stopped assisting without explanation.

She frowned. That should make her feel guilty. Yet, she was queen. She had so many other matters to tend to, so many people demanded her attention and she was very aware of nasty whispers concerning her.

A large group of the nobles didn't want her to be queen. The rumors were louder and louder as time passed they mostly concerned the fact that she still did not carry an heir. 

She held her head high and went on with her business. 

-

He stayed out in the hallway considering if he should reenter the room or if he should just let her talk with her brother. He could attempt to ask her later. Of course, she wouldn’t answer.

He let his gaze drift to the door that she stumbled out of. Something wasn’t right with that encounter. He didn’t believe for one moment that she accidentally ended up in that room. He considered knocking on the door and confronting the man himself. 

He eventually decided he would wait. He merely would watch. 

He entered to room and idly listened to Jon explain exactly what he had planned to do upon his return. Amy listened. Quietly. 

Thorin wondered how wise it was for Jon to trust her. He began to wonder at Dis’s question to him. Did he stay with Amy only because of the contract? Did he love or even like who she had become? What had she become, exactly?

-

He had slipped away. Yes, it was late. Yes, he should go to his wife. He still slipped away. The nobles from the north would be leaving soon and he wanted to spend time with them before they left. Well, one of them.

He had serious reservations concerning his new bride but he had yet to voice them to The Order. It was the definition of hypocritical for him to complain about her when he spent his evenings with another. Yes, he was cheating on his wife. He merely didn’t love her. He was in love with another and The Order had opted not to let him have his love as his queen. It was how they kept their control of the crown. They married her off to an older lord. 

This lord was held in his favor to The Order, he had accepted. No, not accepted. He had agreed to spare the young woman disgrace for having a child out of wedlock. So, he married her, claimed it as his own. This agreement secured him living the rest of his days out in luxury. Of course, the older Lord was surprised to find that that the father of the child had been the king himself. While that was interesting to him, he was past the age of playing political games. He had luxury from not only The Order but The King. 

Edmund and Amaryllis snuck far away from any possible prying eyes and walked along a river bank holding hands. Silence held for a long time as he forced his everyday life away from the forefront of his thoughts.

“It is taking you longer than usual.” Her soft voice floated to him through the moonlight.

“Yes. My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize…just tell me.”

Edmund smiled. “No. I have no room to complain about my life.”

“You have the right. You are being used. They feared your family having too much power because they fear that the people will see what charlatans they are.”

He shook his head. “I live a life of luxury. You live a life of luxury…our children will have a name a home…” He sighed. She remained quiet for a few moments.

“You don’t like her. Do you?”

“Raym? I don’t know her.”

“Why haven’t you tried to know her?”

“I had thought to, but I see how easily she is swayed. I don’t believe I will be able to trust her. The women at court are poisoning her and I am assuming it is a matter of time before she lives as they do.” He groaned. “And it is very hypocritical of me to say that.” She laughed. “I am glad you think that is funny.”

“Well it is, think about it. Everyone is cheating on everyone. Even you are, but it is okay for you to because your affair is sanctioned by The Order.” He groaned again, making her laugh even more. She flashed him a smile and dumped her gowns to the ground before walking into the water. He smiled and stripped before joining her. He knew he would be tired when the sun rose but that didn’t matter in these moments with her.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

He had put his nephews on the task of watching the unknown man in the room. For the week that had passed since Jon left the strange man remained in his room. Deacon, however, had not. He proved to be far too helpful and charming. At least to Dis. He was very pleasant and helpful to Amy as well, holding a deference to her that was odd to him. Deacon deferred to him as well, but he was certain that was only because Amy had shown deference to him. 

He had put off asking Amy any questions since her long talk with Jon. Her nightmares had come back in full force. She didn’t sleep as much as she should have and when evidence of her not being pregnant presented itself her already small appetite decreased to almost nonexistent. For several days, she withdrew into herself and he found dozens of tasks to consume his time. He found that he no longer knew her enough to try to comfort her, therefore he would excuse himself from the awkward situation. 

The tension in the house became dense, heavy. Deacon was the only one who seemed immune from it. Deacon didn’t seem to connect to any serious matters. He existed in his jovial and musical world and though that alone made him want to strangle the redhead he didn’t because he was truly grateful for Deacon distracting his sister and keeping her entertained. 

He purposely turned a blind eye to some of the avenues the man took to keep his sister entertained. 

Shaking that thought from his head he moved to check on Amy. Her nightmares made her sluggish during the days and she had taken to napping on and off all day, which annoyed Dis. Amy’s lack of appetite wore on his sister more, but there was little he could do about that. Amy would eat when she wanted to. They had simply spent enough time favoring her and handling her as a defenseless child.

He quietly slipped into the room and blinked in surprise when he saw her sitting at the small table in the room. She was writing. She was wearing her small silk gown with the blanket from the bed wrapped around her shoulders. Her long, wet hair pooled down her back 

She didn’t look up as he walked to her and looked over her shoulder. He couldn’t see who the missive had been addressed to and she had already completed a couple of pages. She concluded the line she had been working on when he entered and looked up at him. She smiled.

“How are you feeling?” He asked crouching to be eye level with her. 

“Better. Tired of course.” She lightly shrugged. “The nightmares will fade with time. They typically do.” He nodded and traced her cheek. With so many things to talk about he didn’t know where to begin. He wasn’t certain that he wanted to anymore. He had made up his mind to leave in the spring and he was all but certain she wouldn’t wait for him. That topic could be approached later. She watched his face. “What in the world are the boys doing?” He raised an eyebrow in question. “They are loitering around the inn. Like a couple of strays.”

He sighed. If she could see them all the way over here, they weren’t being very surreptitious. “They are attempting to carry out something I have asked of them.”

“What? Making the townsfolk think they are touched in the head?” He chuckled. 

“No…” He reached for her, slipping his arms around her beneath the blanket. She smiled at him.

“Then…what?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. He considered lying to her. “I was curious about something that happened on the day you talked with Jon. I have them looking around.”

“Curious about what?”

He opened his eyes to look at her. Her eyes were soft, her features relaxed. “The incident with you at the Inn. The man whose room you were in." She nodded. 

“It was an odd encounter.”

“He hasn’t left his room since.”

"That any of you have seen." He raised his eyebrows. "Either he followed Jon out of here or he's making certain no one sees him." He groaned. What the hell was this? "Why do you do that? You groan like it is taxing to talk to me."

“It is taxing to get information out of you as you seem to not want to volunteer it.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?”

“You were…otherwise occupied.”

“Are you going to ask me now?”

“Do I have to?” She nodded. “Why? You know what information I am looking for, you can supply it to me.”

“As you said I don’t volunteer information.”

He ground his teeth. “What are you hiding?”

“See, if you are going to get nasty I am not going to talk to you.” She moved to pick the quill back up to go back to her missive. 

For a moment, he wondered if she was the one touched in the head but that thought passed quickly. She knew something and she was using misdirection. “Amy, who was in that room?”

“Are you certain he has left?” He stood and plucked the quill from her hand and dropped it to the table before raising her face to look up at him. She blinked a couple of times. “Has he left?”

“Not that we know of.”

“Then it is best that I stay indoors. I am not certain why he is here but the possibilities are not gentle to think on.”

“Who is he? And why are you afraid of him?”

“His arrival here bothers me, though I do not fear him. I am uncomfortable with why he is here, at least the reasons I assume that he is here.”

“Speak plainly.”

“You tend to over react when I do that.”

He gave her a dry look. “Very well, I will not overreact, if only you would plainly answer me.”

She nodded at his concession though his stomach was in knots now. He didn’t like that she wanted a caveat like that. “It is Daven. And if he doesn’t want to be seen, he won’t be.” He ground his teeth and forced his anger back into its place. “Of course, they probably aren’t looking in the right places for him, even then he can choose when he wants to be seen.”

“Why were you in his room?”

“He grabbed me from behind as I walked past his door. I got out when I was able.”

“When you were able?” She nodded. “What does that mean?”

“It means he attempted to not let me leave. Yet, I was able to get out of the room and was lucky enough to literally fall on to you. I had no way of knowing how you would react to the situation, so I didn’t say anything, but it also lets him think that I am hiding his location. That I am still loyal to him.”

“For what purpose?”

“I don’t know why he is here. He hid from Jon.”

“He should be dealt with.”

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No?”

“If I decide to go home, no matter whose side I join into I will need his help.”

“Why? You have Deacon. You do not need…the assassin.”

“What if I decide to go back to The Order? Do you believe Deacon would follow me there? Either way, I don’t know what Deacon is capable of. Other than a lovely singing voice accompanied by a large memory of fluffy love songs.” He blinked. “I am surprised she fell for that.” 

“You have been in here sick. How in the world do you know what is happening?” She shrugged. “I don’t want you near Daven. Ever.”

“Why?”

“The reason is obvious.”

“Clearly it isn’t.” He looked at her for several long moments. “You don’t trust me.” 

He shook his head. “I trust you.”

“You don’t.” She cut him off. “I understand.”

“That isn’t true, Amy. I trust you.” She blinked as she gazed up at him, for several long moments she considered continuing the conversation but opted against it. They only had the winter together. There was no need in ruining it by arguing. She finally nodded, though she didn’t believe him for one moment.

-

Life at court merely annoyed her these days. So many rules, especially for her. It was ridiculous. For god’s sake, she held up her side of the bargain. She gave the king an heir. In fact, her bad luck made it so she had two. She didn’t want to deal with sons. Especially his sons. She didn’t necessarily have anything against Edmund. She just didn’t like him. He was pretty and charming and he had tried to make her happy. But he never would. The only joy she gained from him was his power, and subsequently the power she held because she was his queen. She had nothing to do with the duties of her station any longer, they were not her problem. She just wanted the luxuries.

She had been overjoyed when the council finally left her the hell alone. She stopped spending time with her sons. She left those duties to others. Her days were spent listening to music, being read to and drinking wine. There was always wine. She eventually narrowed her circle of friends down to a small handful to spend their days with her. 

Her days were easy and blissful. Then the day came that she overheard some of her ladies chattering. According to what she overheard, she was considered the "Wine Queen." No one took her seriously, in fact, she had gained a strong following of people who strongly disliked her. That had upset her but not near as much as when she overheard them calling Lady Varen the true queen, for she was the one the king trusted and the one that you spoke to if you had concerns. Lady Varen also oversaw the education and welfare of the young princes.

She felt betrayed. 

She demanded that Edmund send Lady Varen away from the court. He denied her, after all, if he sent Lady Varen away someone else would have to act as queen since she clearly wanted no part of her responsibilities. She had been furious, she yelled, screamed and threatened. The king remained unflappable. He would not remove Lady Varen. Her temper tantrum was cut short when she was dismissed.  
How dare he? She seethed for days at being dismissed. Silently she watched people move about the court. She saw how they showed Lady Varen admiration. She saw how devoted the general was to his wife. Then it hit her. He was how she would get Lady Varen removed. An affair with her was treason, for them. Not her, as she was chosen by The Order. The general would be executed and Lady Varen would be sent away in disgrace. If the king wouldn’t to it, The Order would. 

She just needed a private meeting and drugged wine.

-

He had no idea what she had been writing. After he had interrupted her she put her missive away and spent the rest of the day with him. He did note that she was writing in her native language and while he could easily understand and speak the language, he wasn't the best at reading it. He considered finding it later to see if he could see what she had been writing but decided against it. 

He wasn’t going to focus on what was happening in her home, what she had been doing for the last several years, or even what she would do when he left. He was certain that once he left she would as well and that would be the end of it. Their reunion would be over. Their vacation from their lives will have ended. 

As the light faded she had left his company to help Dis with dinner. For many long moments, he looked at the missive. The more he looked at the more he realized who she would send to deliver it. He took a long breath. It was pointless for him to bar her from seeing her former lover. He had become an integral part of her life. He knew she wouldn’t send Deacon to deliver the message.

“I am surprised you haven’t read it yet.”

He blinked. He had not heard her return. “I have considered it, even though I am not certain at how well I read your language.”

“You understand it when spoken, don’t you?”

“Yes. We have learned it living on the borders of your lands.” She nodded and walked into the room, taking a seat near the table the letter rested on. “You are going to have Daven deliver it, aren’t you?”

“No.”

That answer surprised him. “Deacon?”

“No. I have yet to decide if it will be delivered.” For several long moments, they sat in silence. “We will never be as we were before I left.” She paused and he looked at her. “I don’t want to consider what will come. I don’t want to keep explaining and justifying how I have been living. So, I will say this: there is a contract between our people. In the event that I survive my return home, that will be honored, irregardless of your personal feelings for me.” He watched her. Her face held no emotion and her eyes were clear purple. She slowly blinked. “If you wish me to stay the winter with you, I will. If not, I will begin my preparations to return home.”

\---

She only marginally worried at Jon’s birth. She knew he wasn’t Edmunds son, but she made certain that she bore Edmund another child rapidly after Jon. Only in a mild effort to keep The Order from saying anything amiss concerning her. She had initially found a little joy in having a daughter, finally, a little girl. But, the realization sank in. Her daughter would never marry for love. As her mate was chosen for her, so the same would be for her daughter. 

She retreated back into her world. Others could deal with the children. The less attached she was to them the less she would suffer when they met their fates. She knew The Order had plans for them all. 

Then it happened, The Order came down on her. Jon wasn’t the child of the king. She denied it. They knew she was lying. Edmund talked them down. General Varen was not executed. Lady Varen was not shamed. Merely, they were sent away from the court. Edmund had admirably weathered that storm. 

Then he turned on her.

Edmund moved her to the other side of the palace. Edmund wanted nothing to do with her. While she whole heartedly agreed with that decision it frustrated her. While she no longer had to pretend she liked Edmund, the move publicly removed her from any semblance of power she might have had. Edmund had kept up a correspondence with Lady Varen and from her distant home, she managed to retain more authority that Raym ever had.

-

Their conversation was cut short when Dis called for Amy’s help. She silently left the room, leaving him to consider what she had said to him. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This work has a condensed timeline and people have been placed where they had not originally been.

He trailed his long fingers over the railing as he walked up the stairs. He had spent the last hour easing the concerns of his certified members. She had not returned. Their men had not returned. The assassin had not returned. 

They suspected that perhaps she had been killed after all. They wanted him to put someone on the throne. They were certain that would be the very act to stop the war. Reinstate the monarchy and that would settle the restless lords down so they could return to their tranquil life. 

She was alive and he knew it. He had assured them that she would return. No matter what happened, who she talked to or what she came across while she was away she would return to him. This was her home. This was all she knew. For good or for bad. This was where she belonged. 

He entered his elaborate chambers and immediately waved the waiting staff away. He wasn’t remotely worried about her. She would return. What he would do to her solely depended on what she had done while she was away. It would be on her, not him. He paused and inhaled before stretching his long frame out and folding it into a chair. He inhaled again and looked out over The City. His city. He gazed off in the direction of Haxen and the palace. His city as well. He lightly snapped his fingers. Rapidly and silently a glass of wine was offered to him. He took it and waved the servant away. 

He considered giving her the throne when she returned. The only hesitation that he had was the possibility that she would be swayed to Jon and his cause. He needed to find a way to keep her firmly in his grasp. He had been toying with the idea of naming a king for a few weeks now and the more he rolled it over in his mind, the more he leaned to it. 

If he were to act on it he would have to do so quickly. Edmund had not named a successor. He could name a king or queen if he wanted to. He would have to choose wisely. Someone that she wouldn’t wish to remove upon her return. Someone she wouldn’t sneak up on in the dark hours and kill. Someone who he could wed her to. 

Why not?

Why not control the monarchy as his predecessor did? Control the King. The King could keep her in line and if not, well, she did vividly remember what happened to the former queen. As long as his sister sat on one of the thrones he would have a solid grip on the royals. They would follow his commands, unlike his father and mother. They had blatantly disregarded the orders of the monarchy. Not so much his father, but in the end, even Edmund tried to defy The Order. It was the reason his life had become forfeit.

Once Jon’s little rebellion was crushed he could do as he wished with the monarchy. He could wait, make sure his sister had a son. Then he could remove them from the throne and rule in the stead of the young heir. He had thought of this before but had been hesitant. He didn't like adding more people into his equation. For every person that he added the more likely, it could slip away from him and fall into her favor. A person on their own can be controlled, but large groups of people can be reactionary and dangerous. 

He sipped his wine, savoring the spiciness while mildly wondering just where his little sister ran off to.

-

Winter slowly receded. The temperature warmed and it no longer snowed, but the snow didn’t seem to want to melt. 

He had refused to give her an answer. If she was going to leave, then it would be her choice, not his. She had accepted his lack of answer without comment and life went on. Life will always move on.   
They had moved into their own small cottage, mainly for the sake of privacy. The town had considered them husband and wife and since they had continued to live as such they desired to have privacy. Even with that move, she did spend a great deal of time with Dis, who became her assistant as she once again fell into the role of healer.

Deacon floated around the women and while it did annoy him to no end that the redhead had fostered a relationship with his sister he said nothing. Of course, with Deacon around Dis and Amy had an escort wherever they went. However, Deacon did confess to him that he had left Amy alone one time. Thorin assumed that she went to see Daven. He did not ask and she did not offer any information.  
They fell into a comfortable routine. She spent the days with Dis, he spent the days with his nephews. They would all have dinner together and spend some of the evenings talking with each other and telling stories. Eventually, they would retire to bed and eventually fall asleep. She typically rose before he did, she would have breakfast and coffee ready for him. Most of those mornings she would be there and they would take breakfast in silence. Only occasionally would they share with the other what they had planned for their day.

Over time, little by little they emotionally separated. Being together gave them benefits, they took care of each other physically. The emotional separation and the relaxation that came with it did show them both that they were very comfortable and compatible lovers. Him simply not caring who she had been with in the past allowed them, ironically, to be closer to each other than they had in the past. If not for the physical relationship, she may have left already, but they enjoyed each other’s affections and it was, for both of them, a perfect way to close out their mundane days.

-

It was late into the evening. They were both awake. Neither making any moves to show the other that they were. She had her back up against him, his arm was looped around her stomach with her hand resting on his leg. They typically slept naked and tonight wasn’t an exception. 

The mood between them had shifted over the last couple of days. It began to feel as if it was time to end their affair. Essentially that is what it had become, a winter fling. They had to handle it in such a manner. One or both could die once they left each other. And if they didn’t, well the tides had shifted. They would both rule. They no longer could entertain the idea that they would be able to marry each other. They didn't even pretend they wanted to anymore. They had silently accepted that they were insanely compatible lovers but realized that they didn't have anything to talk about. At any rate, if they were to marry it would remove her from her kingdom. She was the last of her royal line, of course, that is if she managed to defeat The Order. He would never leave his home and she wouldn’t ask him to.  
He had been making arrangements to leave. He suspected she had been as well. He couldn’t imagine her staying after he left. 

He closed his eyes, he could smell her hair. He was beginning to think into it far too much. He didn’t want to do that. He pulled her tighter against him. He felt her fingernails trace over his leg. He softly kissed her shoulder, prompting her to turn to face him. 

He watched her purple eyes for a moment. She didn’t give any indications as to what she was thinking by her expression. However, the fingernails lightly tracing down his back told him she wasn’t expecting conversation. He gave her a small smile as he captured her hand, preventing it from wandering over him any longer. She smiled in response and hooked her leg over his hip. He released her hand to grasp her leg and pull her with him as he moved on to his back. 

She moved with him to sit up on his hips and look down at him. She brought her hands to a rest on his chest while his rested on her thighs. He looked up at her in silence for a moment, for reasons he wasn’t sure of he felt like speaking and as he was about to speak she moved, leaning over him, so close their noses almost touched. She smiled, her eyes glittered with humor. Before he could speak she softly pressed her lips against his, slowly drawing him into a deep and consuming kiss. Her fingernails traced down his chest and over his hips, her soft lips slowly followed. 

He let his fingers wrap into her hair, feeling the silky hair trail through his fingers while her soft lips trailed down his body. His mind latched on to him having wanted to ask her something, he contemplated that. What was he going to ask her? He was going to ask when she was leaving. He opened his eyes to look at her and in that moment, she had decided to glide her tongue over the underside of him before drawing him into her mouth. He hissed as he slammed his eyes closed, his fingers tightening in her hair. 

Any questions or thoughts he may have had floating in his mind flew out as she withdrew and slowly pulled him back in, her tongue tracing along underneath as she moved. She repeated the movements, every time moving a bit faster eventually bringing her hand in to assist the efforts. He moved against her, his grip in her hair likely painful.   
-  
It took some time for him to drift off to sleep once she finished him. Daven had left, he would be the first to hand off the long letter she wrote, perhaps it would reach its destination. Perhaps not. She had no way of knowing. She also had no way of knowing what the outcome of that letter would be if it did indeed reach its intended recipient. 

She had sent Daven away with an idea of where she would eventually find him. She tried to tell herself that she didn’t need him, for anything. She knew that wasn’t a correct assessment. She would need his help if she decided to challenge Logan. She knew she would need a lot of help if she was going to challenge Logan. 

She still wasn’t certain where she stood on the matter. Especially now that she had lived long enough to see the fairy tale of her betrothal shattered. She genuinely liked Thorin. As a lover, but she did not relish the idea of being stuck with a man that so soundly lorded over her every move. It screamed insecurity and a lack of trust. 

Nevertheless. She would honor the treaty. If they both survived and if he sent for her. She would just leave that on him. 

-

The sun and the smell of coffee woke him. Slowly he pulled himself from the bed and dressed. As he made his way to where he knew coffee would be waiting he noted that there was a change, something felt different.

When he reached his breakfast and coffee he saw what it was. She had left his ring. It was resting on a letter.

“We knew this day would come. As I have said, no matter what comes to pass I will honor the treaty between our kingdoms. Please take care.  
Goodbye love.  
Amaryllis.”

He sat and stared at it. It was over. She had gone home. He wished her the best, but he was certain that he wouldn’t miss her as terribly as he had in the past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my wonderful readers. We have reached the end of Journey. However, we all know Thorin’s story from here (with the obvious alteration that he will survive the retaking of Erebor). I intend to tell Amaryllis’s story, however since this fic is Thorin centered I will ask for your preference. 
> 
> I can continue the story chronologically, meaning part two of the story will be Amaryllis’s adventures upon returning home. That will lead into part three which is the reunion of Thorin and Amaryllis.
> 
> Or.
> 
> I can continue them both separately and you can choose to read of Amaryllis’s (mis)adventures or you can just keep up with Thorin and Amaryllis upon their reunion.
> 
> Please leave me a comment or a note if you have a preference.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
